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A NERVOUS SET. 

Cnmetrg in €Ijm %tts. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF BARRIER K VXD SARDOU, 

By S. M. QUTNCY, 



JFor tlje iSoston Amateur Dramatic Club, 



TO 



BOSTON : 
PRINTED BY RAND, AVERY, & FRYE, 

No. 3, CORNHILL. 
l870. 






*;<i 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, 

By S M. QUIXCY, 

Id the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



V 



A NERVOUS SET. 



CHARACTERS. 



BEROERIN, retired old bachelor. 
MARTEAU, house owner. 
TIBURCE, employed in post-office. 
CLESAR, nephew to Marteau. 
TUFFIER, retired hardware merchant. 
LOUIS, his son. 
A NOTARY. 

AUGUSTE, servant to Marteau. 
MADAME TUFFIER. 
MARION, adopted child of Marteau . 
PLACLDE, housekeeper to Marteau. 
LUCIE, daughter to Marteau. 



The scene is laid at Batignolles, in the house owned by Marteau. 



A NERVOUS SET. 



ACT I. 

A drawing-room. All the furniture covered with linen 
cases. Two side-doors in the first flats : the left, JSIar- 
teau's ; the right, his daughter's. The second flats ob- 
lique, forming " pan coupe." Left, door of dining- 
room ; right, window opening on garden. The apart- 
ment is the basement. Between the two doors on the 
left, a piano ; between the door and window on the right, 
a fireplace ; in the back, the door of entrance • to the 
left of this door, a work-stand ; on the right, a console, 
a table, and an arm-chair • on the left, a causeuse 
and a chair. 

SCENE I. 

Peacide, Auguste, Tibukce. 

As the curtain rises, Peacide is in the arm-chair before 
the fire, reading the paper ; Auguste sitting on the 
pio no-stool. 

Placid e (reading the paper). We read in "The Jura 
Sentinel," "The first snow has just made its appearance " 
(interrupting herself). Already, — at the end of Sep- 
tember: there's a country for you! (turning to Auguste.) 



b A NERVOUS SET. 

Well, what are you about there ? How about finishing 
the room ? 

Auguste. O Madame Placide ! I can't tell what has 
come over me to-day. I feel a sort of a — kind of a — 
don't know what, all over. I can't get up the least energy 
for ray work. 

Plac. Just like me : it's the weather. 

Aug. (sighing). It's the weather. 
(Dusts the piano. Placide reads paper / Tiburce, in full 

dress, opens discreetly door at back, and remains an in- 
stant on the threshold.) 

Tib. (to Aug.) Monsieur Marteau, if you please. 
(Silence. Augusts dusts. Placide reads. Tiburce 
strikes a key on the piano, repeating, " 3Ionsieur Mar- 
teau. n ) 

Aug. He's at dinner. 

Tib. But still this is his reception-day? 

Aug. Certainly ; bat even that don't prevent his din- 
ing. 

Tib. That's true. (Looks at icatch.) Twenty min- 
utes past seven. (Aloud) Will he be long at dinner ? 

Aug. Oh ! you'll have plenty of time to take a nice 
little walk round Batignolles. Beautiful weather! — the 
first day of autumn. 

Tib. Thank you. I'd rather sit down. 

(Sits on chair, left.) 

Plac. (turns round). Well, what is it? 

Aug. Gentleman wants master. 

Plac. Suppose you take off the covers. 

Aug. Yes, madame (pulls cover of Tiburce's chair). 
Excuse me. 

Tib. What is it ? 

Aug. The cover. 

(Tiburce rises, and looks round for a seat.) 



A NERVOUS SET. I 

Plac. (to Tib.) And what may your business with 
master be ? 

Tib. (astonished). Well; pretty cool question. Mod- 
erate amount of cheek for a housekeeper. 

Plac. In the first place, I'd have you to understand 
I'm no housekeeper. 

Tib. Oh ! excuse me (bowing). High official of some 
sort, — female beadle (aside). 

(Sits on chair •, right of tabled) 

Plac. I am the lady in charge of M. Marteau's estab- 
lishment, and have been for twenty years — do you un- 
derstand? — and I've snubbed handsomer noses than 
yours. 

Tib. Handsomer noses. 

Aug. (pidls cove?'). Excuse me. 

Tib. What now? 

Aug. The cover. 

Tib. (rises provoked). Again? 

Plac. After all, suppose you give me the pleasure of 
your name ? 

Tib. (standing before fireplace). Tiburce. 

Plac. Don't know you. 

Tib. That doesn't prevent Tiburce being my name. 

Plac. And what do you do? 

Tib. Just now, I'm losing temper. 

Plac. Is that your trade? 

Tib. Yes : from nine to five, central post-office ; 
Mail Court; staircase G ; Claims Bureau. 

Plac. Why, that's Monsieur Bergerin's old office be- 
fore they retired him. 

Tib. Well — yes, just so. My chief introduced me to 
Monsieur Bergerin, who presents me, this evening, to 
Monsieur Marteau. Does that meet your approbation ? 
(Sits on chair, at extreme right.) 



8 A NERVOUS SET. 

Plac. (aside, rising). Goodness gracious ! Now, I 
wonder if he is after our girls, — this chap with his white 
choker. 

Aug. (pulls cover as before.) Excuse me. 

Tib. (provoked). Again? (Rises, and looks for seat?) 

Plac* Since you know Monsieur Bergerin, you might 
leave the parlor to us during dinner, and go up and see 
him. 

Tib. Where does he live ? 

Plac. Why, up stairs, second floor, first door. It's 
precious hard to find, seeing as master's house is only two 
stories high. 

Tib. Ah ! The house belongs to Monsieur Marteau ? 

Plac. Who should it belong to ? 

Tib. And — a — Monsieur Marteau has no son ? 

Plac. No. He only had a nephew, whom he has 
turned out of doors ; but he has a young lady or two. 

Tib. How do you mean " or two " ? 

Plac. Why, certainly. In the first place, Mademoi- 
selle Lucie, who is his real daughter by his deceased wife ; 
and, secondly, Mademoiselle Marion, whom he picked up. 

Tib. (aside). Just what they told me, — a foundling. 

Plac. Have you found out about enough now? 

Tib. But I — 

Pla<;. Thank the Lord, you don't want for curiosity. 

Tib. Excuse me. I must be allowed to remark — 

Plac.j (holding out letters taken from table). By the 
way, as you go up to M. Bergerin, just take these to — 

Trn. Carry your letters ! Well, by George! 

Plac. Oh, come now ! I hope you'll never do any 
thing more dishonorable than that. 

Tib. What do you say ? 

Plac. All you've got to do is just to ring at Monsieur 

* Placide, Tiburce. t Tiburce, Placide. 



A NERVOUS SET. 9 

Tuftier's on the first floor. You know him well enough, 
—Turner. 

Tib. Don't know him from Adam. 

Plac. Oh, pshaw ! Don't talk to me, — Monsieur Tui- 
fier, master's old friend. Made his fortune in the hardware 
business; an old miser and a coward — and nervous — 
nervous is no word. Ah ! you'd better not put him out, 
nor his son Monsieur Louis either. He talks of nothing 
but smashing and killing right and left; and he's a pretty 
fast boy, besides, after the women. I've known him from 
a baby, — he was in a manner brought up with our young 
ladies, — and haven't I boxed his ears? He never bore 
malice. For all that, he's going it too fast now. Now, 
you ought to tell him so. 

Tib. I — but since I — 

Plac. You don't know him either, perhaps? 

Tib. Who ? 

Plac. Monsieur Louis. 

Tib. (impatient). Neither Pa Turner, Ma Tuffier, nor 
young Turner. How they bore a fellow with their stories! 
Some patience required here (sits on causeuse). 

Aug. Excuse me. 

Tib. (furious.) Well, what? The cover's off. What 
now? 

Aug. {holding delicately a crochet-work tidy.) The 
guipures — 

Tib. Oh, d — n it! Well, I'd rather carry your letters. 

Plac. Very well ; only I warn you, if you want Mon- 
sieur Bergerin to turn you out, all that is needed is to loll 
about over all his furniture in that style. 

Tib. Oh! no sitting down there, either? 

Plac. Why, it's handsomer than here, — all velvet and 
silk, — and six rooms for M. Bergerin all to himself. Just 
think of it, an old bachelor! It ought to make him want 



10 A NERVOUS SET. 

to get married ; but he's too selfish for that, not to men- 
tion his nerves too. 

Tib. His nerves too ? 

Plac. I believe you, — his too. But his aren't a cir- 
cumstance compared with master's. 

Tib. Monsieur Marteau? 

Plac. Yes. There's nerves for you ; since he's had 
nothing to do. ( Violent ring in dining-room.) There, 
that's his style. 

Tib. (starts). The devil! He forewarns one anyhow. 
(Another ring in the vestibule.) Thunder ! 

Aug. That's M. Louis (goes out to open). 

Plac. (taking cups on a loaiter). You will make his 
acquaintance. 

Tib* Thank you. In that style ? 

( The two bells ring at once.) 

Plac. Coming, coming. They've gone mad (kicks 
open dining-room door, and enters with waiter) . 

Tib. (starts again). By Jove, the old woman is ner- 
vous too. (Recapitulating.) Come, let's see : Bergerin, 
nervous; Pa Turner, nervous; young Turner, nervous; 
Pa Marteau, nervous. ■ Why, the house is epileptic. I've 
made rather a lucky strike here, 

Lou. (shouts in vestibule). Don't you trouble your- 
self for your visitors here, that you keep me waiting this 
way ? Did one ever see — such rascals ! (Enters.) Placide 
(looks about). Come, now, where has she put herself? 
Nobody. 

Tib. {before fireplace, aside). Well, how about me ? 

Lou. (takes no notice of Tiburce ; bangs table with 
cane). Nobody. Here's a pretty household for you (site on 
arm-chair near table). One never knows what time they 
dine (looks at watch). Now, only think, ten minutes to 

* Placide, Tiburce. 



A NERVOUS SET. 11 

eight. I had time enough to smoke two cigars. (Rises, and 
goes to fireplace to light cigar. Tiburce gets out of way 
quickly Louis pulls in vain : cigar ivonH light.) Just 
my special d — d luck. I come from the Bastille — three 
omnibuses full — . Oh, get out ! and I had to end by climb- 
ing on top; and that I do despise, for one looks so ridicu- 
lous, — just like so many calves on a market-cart. 

Tib. That can't be a cigar : it's a nail he's trying to 
smoke. 

Lou. I arrive, I ring. Wait till they come ? oh, cer- 
tainly ! And this idiot with his nose — master's at dinner, 
master's got a nervous attack. Sacrebleu ! I've got 
one myself (catches up and flings down stool). I should 
like to smash every thing here. 

Tib. (alarmed). I'd better go up stairs, decidedly 
(runs out). 

Lou. (alone, looks after Tiburce). Now, who can that 
ass be ? See him run ! (takes his hat, and reflects^) On 
the whole, I'll follow his example, and be off myself. 
(Exit with decided air, and slams door ; then gently 
re-opens it, and sneaks in again.) Yes, that's all 
.very well; but after all, Marion, my dear little Marion, 
whom I can't see again to-day — and it's a week al- 
ready since I squeezed her little hand (bloios kisses to- 
wards dining-room), — O Marion ! I love you and you 
only. You are my happiness, my joy, my gayety (chan- 
ging tone and coming down) . Yes, your gayety indeed: 
that's doing pretty well just now. Running about for three 
days ; can't sleep, or eat either. I don't live, in fact. 
Three notes coming due, and no money; and, by George! 
no time to lose in getting some. So how stupid I am to 
be coming after this little girl, who doesn't guess I'm here, 
who can't even recognize my ring. That's woman all 
over. Coquetry, — she must be waited for. Wait now, I'll 



12 A NERVOUS SET. 

count up to a hundred : if she hasn't come by a hundred, 
I'm off. That'll teach you, little viper {throws himself on 
causeuse back to dining-room, and counts aloud, beating 
time ivith cane). 

( Mae. comes quietly out of dining-room, and behind 
him, without his hearing). 

Lou. {counting). Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty- 
four, forty-five, fifty-seven (stops). It's too much : I give 
it up (leans head back). My head aches. 

Mar. (takes his hair with both hands, and pulls his 
head down). That's your punishment. 

Lou.* Marion. 

Mar. (holding his head). Eight days without coming. 

Lou. You are pulling my hair out. Ah ! 

Mar. Beg my pardon then. 

Lou. I beg your pardon. Oh ! 

Mar. Better than that. 

Lou. Pardon, pardon! 

Mar. (letting go). Well, no : I won't pardon you. 
And do you know what will happen another time ? When 
you come, I won't speak a word (turns her back on him, 
and leans on causeuse) . 

Lou. Now hear me : really it isn't my fault. If you 
only knew. 

Mar. I wish to know nothing. I don't ask your 
secrets. 

Lou. Well, I'm in want of money — there ! 

Mar. Always. 

Lou. Well, I should like to see how you'd manage with 
fifteen hundred francs salary. 

Mar. Fifteen hundred francs ! But what can you do 
with so much money ? 

Lou. What do I do witli it ? 

* Louis, Marion. 



A NERVOUS SET. 13 

Mar. Why, certainly. 

Lou. Well, I commit every folly. I lead the life of a 
Roman satrap. Hotel, horses, carriages, and thirty-two 
people to dine every day, — thirty-two women. 

Mar. (piqued, comes down). If you wouldn't make 
fun of me in the first place. 

Lou. That's true. It's astonishing, these little girls. 
Because they are fed, boarded, and washed, and haven't a 
care but to amuse themselves. 

Mar. Amuse themselves, — oh ! very much. That was 
why I refused to go to the play last Wednesday, thinking 
you were coming in the evening. 

Lou. You refused to go because the seats were bad ; 
that's all. 

Mar. And the ball the Wednesday before. 

Lou. You refused a ball on my account ? You — 

Mar. Yes, sir ; and a wedding-ball at that. 

Lou. Oh! never in this world. 

Mar. Oh ! if you can — 

Lou. Oh ! never, never. 

Mar. Well, no, there : it isn't true. I don't give up 
any thing for you ; and I should be a fool if I did. You 
are too wicked and too ungrateful. Go away ! What did 
you come for? I don't know you (falls into arm-chair, 
and bursts into tears). 

Lou. You are crying. 

Mar. (hides her face). No : on the contrary — 

Lou. (trying to remove her hands). I tell you, you are 
crying. 

Mar. (turning away her head). And I tell you no. 

Lou. Marion, I am a brute, I know. My little Marion, 
please give me your hand. You know I can't help it. 
It's my nerves. Please say you are not angry with me 
(kneels). 

2 



14 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mar* {head averted). Go away! 

Lou. I'm not naughty. I love you dearly (in despair). 
Don't I love you ? Now come. 

Mar. (feebly). Yes. (Lets him take her hand.) 

Lou. And you love me ; now, don't you ? 

Mar. Why, yes. 

Lou. Well, then, why do you cry ? It's in my nature, 
you know. We can't change ourselves. But come, look 
at me. 

Mar. (head averted). I don't want to : you are too 
wicked. 

Lou. Please. 

Mar. No. 

Lou. I beg (he forces her to turn her head). 

Mar. Oh, yes! that's a fine way, — if you choose to 
try main force. (Louis kisses her hand : she lets him.) 
Oh, well ! I'm too much of a coward. If you only knew 
how anxious I've been, without daring to say a word 
either. At last, without seeming to, I managed to sug- 
gest to your mother to send the concierge to inquire at 
the ministry after you ; and they said they'd seen you the 
nisfht before. How relieved I was ! But it was about time 
I tell you; I was so sad and tormented. 

Lou. (holding both her hands). Fortunately that 
doesn't show. You look as fresh and rosy as a — 

Mar. (piqued). What! do you reproach me with it ? 

Lou. (laughs). I; no, indeed ! 

Mar. That means I ought to have fallen ill to please 
you, hey? 

Lou. Oh, poor little darling! you ill? (With slight 
raillery.) Still you will allow, that, without falling ill ex- 
actly, you don't often lose sight of those you love for eight 
days without losing a little color. 

* Marion, Louis. 



A NERVOUS SET. 15 

Mae. Any way, it's better to keep it than to lose it 
the way you do, — gambling. 

Lou. Oh ! we weren't talking about me. 

Mar. I ought to have lost appetite and sleep, hadn't I ? 

Lou. Why, no. 

Mar. I ought to have slowly pined away in tears and 
despair? 

Lou. Not at all. 

Mar. I ought to have covered myself with ashes, beat 
my breast, and torn out my hair, hadn't I, while you 
were amusing yourself ? 

Lou. {goes up, impatient). Oh! if you will talk non- 
sense (sits on the arm of the chair). 

Mar. I am talking just what you think. 

Lou. You are too kind. 

Mar. And you are too good. 

Lou. I expected this. I had much better have gone 
as I intended. 

Mar. Oh ! certainly ; rather than to come resolved to 
pick an absurd quarrel with me. 

Lou. (jumps up). That's my dismissal, hey? 

Mar. Just as you choose. 

Lou. (takes hat and cane). You ought to have said so 
at first. 

Mar* (bursting out). Ah, at last ! This is too much 
to be borne. There ! you are a wicked soul, a bad 
heart, and an insupportable, intolerable bear. I don't love 
you any more. I run away, and hate you — there ! ( Goes 
into room right, and locks door.) 

Lou. (knocks at door). Marion, Marion, listen to me. 
Marion, I'm wrong: I tell you I'm wrong — there. I'll 
never begin again as long as I live. Marion, I beg your 
pardon. My little Marion, on my knees, — I give you my 

* Louis Marion. 



16 A NERVOUS SET. 

word of honor, I'm on my knees (kneels, and looks under 
door). She's there! I see her boots (knocks). Open the 
door, Marion (icith tragedy air). Marion, if you won't 
open, I'll dash my brains out against the door. You won't 
open ? — well, then, — once, twice {gets up). Well, so 
much the worse. I'm a great fool after all. [Shouts.) You 
have no heart ; you're a little monster : farewell! ( Under- 
takes to go out backwards, and comes near upsetting his 
father, who enters.) 

Tuffier (frightened). Ah! 

Lou. My father! 

Tuf. A chair (falls into it, shaking all over). Devil 
take you, you young scamp ! 

Lou. (slapping his hands, and looking at Marion's 
door). Oh ! it isn't any thing. Come, courage ! 

Tuf. And to-day, too, just as the weather's changing, 
and the wind will bring rain. My whole nervous system 
is in such a state. There, look at my hands (shaking). 

Lou. Still, father, you must allow that folks shouldn't 
be frightened quite so easily. (Stoops to look for Mari- 
on's boots.) 

Tuf. (sitting up suddenly). Frightened! I? That's 
not true, you villain ! I'm not timorous. I was a soldier 
for eighteen months, and never once afraid, I'd have you 
know. And I was in ten different — garrisons, — Melun, 
Vincennes, St. Germain — 

Mad. Tuf. (enters with loorsted-work in hand, and 
who only hears the last icord of a sentence).* Well, now, 
that's just another of your absurd ideas. 

Tuf. Well, come, then: what do you think I was talk- 
ing about ? 

Mad. Tuf. (seated on a causeuse). You were talking 
of St. Germain. 

Tuf. Well? 

* Mad. Tuffier, Tuffier, Louis. 



A NERVOUS SET. 17 

Mad. Tuf. Well, you are intending to go to see the 
Lncombes. 

Tuf. Madame Turner, I have already told you a hun- 
dred times, you have the most deplorable and persistent 
habit — 

Mad. Tuf. Goodness gracious ! habit of what, then ? 

Tuf. Of always coming into a conversation at cross- 
purposes. 

Mad. Tuf. I'm always at cross-purposes with you. After 
all, it's no hanging-matter, even for a cat. I understood, 
as I believed, that you had an idea of going to St. Germain ; 
and I considered the time ill chosen, seeing that it isn't 
when the weather is growing cold, — when it — 

Tuf. Oh ! grant me patience. 

Mad. Tuf. (rising'). I had all the more right to be 
astonished that you should want to visit the Lacombes 
to-day, when they haven't been notified, because, last 
summer (Louis, out of patience, tries to get his hat, unob- 
served), you refused to go when they expected us (turns, 
and stops Louis) : * didn't he, Louis ? 

Tuf. But once more — 

Mad. Tuf. {stopping Louis, and continually preventing 
him from going out). And, after all, these people aren't 
rich, — not that I despise them for that ; poverty's no crime : 
but, any way, they don't wallow in gold, and it might in- 
commode them terribly if we were to tumble on their 
backs without being expected ; for, after all, when one 
don't expect anybody — 

Tuf. (icho has tried in vain to speak, begins to rage). 
Madame Tuffier ! 

Lou. (getting nervous cdso). Yes, mamma, pray — 

Mad. Tuf. Besides it's being three miles from their 
house to the village — 

* Louis, Mad. Tuffier, Tuffier. 

2* 



18 A NEHVOUS SET. 

Tuf. Madame Tuffier ! 

Lou. {aside). Oh! isn't mamma exasperating? 
Mad. Tuf. And all to get a wretched mutton-chop — 
Lou. axd Tuf. (shout). Enough, enough ! 
(Tuffier is taken with a?iother attack, and falls into 
chair near table.) 
Mad. Tuf. (to Lou.) Oh, very well, very well ! 

(Sits dozen to her work, r.) 

Enter Bergerin and Tibuece. 

Bergeren" (followed by Tibuece). What's the matter ? 

Tuf. (groans'). She will kill me, Bergerin. 

Mad. Tuf. (rises). All that just because — 

Tuf. (screams). Are you going to begin again? Oh, 
my nerves, my nerves ! 

(Madame Tuffier shrugs shoulders, and sits.) 

Lou. (loosening his fathers cravat). I say, if you 
should help me a little, Monsieur Bergerin. 

Beeg. (turning his back on Tuffiee, and coming 
down, l.)* O my boy! you mustn't count on me for these 
affairs, if I know myself — the mere sight of a suffering 
animal — I couldn't look at Tuffier now for the world. 

Tuf. (coming to). Ah! 

Lou. (shakes him). There, there! courage! 

Beeg. Stop ! the mere thought that my poor friend is 
there nearly fainting — I am forced to sit down (sits on 
caaseuse, turning his back on Tuffier). 

Tibuece (looking at him). Now, that is astonishing. 
To look at you, one would never think you so susceptible. 

Berg, (seated, and reclining). I, — why, I'm nothing 
but a bundle of nerves, young man. Why, the least emo- 
tion, any thing contrary, a change of weather — Now 

* Tiburce, Bergerin, Tuffier, Mad. Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 19 

to-day, for instance, this change of wind, bringing dry 
weather — 

Tuf. {sitting up). Bringing rain (to Louis and his 
wife). Why don't you tell him it's going to bring rain ? 

Berg, {to Tib.). So you can imagine what strict re- 
gime I have to follow, — a calm, well-ordered life ; regular 
promenade ; good cuisine ; theatre very often (plays that 
make you laugh) ; warm rooms ; good carpets ; constant 
care to avoid all painful impressions, all sights of suffering 
or poverty. Oh, I can't abide the sight of poverty ! 

Lou. (aside). This man will give me an attack of 
nerves. I shall just leave. (Exit suddenly.) 

Berg, (continuing). I can't marry, because a woman, 
quarrels, jealousy, love itself, — they are all things that 
affect one too much. One must, — and then one isn't al- 
ways, — and then — the woman — you understand, and. 
the children. Ah ! the children especially. A child cries ; 
he suffers ; he's teething: you must get up — at night — 
run for the doctor — and see my child in pain — poor little 
dear! I know myself. I should go right into the country. 

Mad. Tuf. (at mantelpiece, where she has gone for her 
scissors; hears the last word). Ah! you've bought it, 
then? 

Tue. What? 

Mad. Tuf. Why, that house in the country you were 
talking about, isn't it, — somewhere near Colombes ? 

Tuf. We are not talking of that. 

Berg. No, madame ; I was saying — 

Mad. Tuf. (crosses to Berg.) So much the better. I 
confess I was astonished that you should have intended to 
settle for good in the country : it is so monotonous.* 

Tuf. (in despair). Now she'll never stop. 

* Tiburce, Bergerin, Mai. TuSer, Tuffier. 



20 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mad. Tuf. You know, too, they offered Monsieur Tuf- 
fier a receiver-generalship at Pithiviers. 

Tur. Bergerin, what time is it ? 

Mad. Tup. But I insisted on his refusing it. 

Tuf. Well, I did refuse it. 

Mad. Tuf. And you did well. 

Tuf. Well, that's settled. 

Mad. Tuf. Yes, sir, you did well; fori should have 
died there. 

Berg, (aside, rising). By George ! in that case — 

Mad. Tuf. (to Beeg.) Only think of that, sir ! 

Berg, (tranquilly). I am thinking of it, madam. 

Mad. Tuf. Leave Batignolles at my age ? 

Berg. Yes. 

Tuf. Oh ! 

Mad. Tuf. For I was born at Batignolles, sir, in Long 
Monk Street. 

Berg. There's no harm in that. 

Mad. Tuf. My father was an apothecary. 

Berg. Well, we're none of us perfect. (/Sits.) 

Tuf. (who hasn't got in a word). But don't answer 
her, Bergerin. 

Mad. Tuf. (sentimentally). You men don't care for 
the native soil that saw your birth ; but we, — Ave hold to 
it. 

Tuf. But who's going to take away your soil ? 

Mad. Tuf. Goodness knows I've often tried to reason 
myself out of it : I've said to myself, that one's country 
should be anywhere with the beloved object ; (aside to 
Bergerix) but then, in the first place, my husband never 
was the beloved object. 

Berg. That simplifies the question, — greatly. 

Mad. Tuf. Besides, why should he insist upon my 
burying myself alive in the provinces ? 



A NERVOUS SET. 21 

Berg, (to Tuf.) Yes, why, indeed ? — why ? 

Tuf. (to his wife). Why, can't you see that Bergerin 
is just chaffing you ? 

Berg. Well ! — I like that. 

Mad. Tuf. That's a lie. 

Tib. (aside). This doesn't seem to be a family of tur- 
tle-doves. 

Mad. Tuf. You judge other people by yourself. 

Berg, (seeking to calm her) . Madame! 

Mad. Tuf. No, sir: that man is never happy unless he 
can insult me, — and all that because he married me with- 
out a fortune. 

Tuf. (screams). Here comes something else. 

Mad. Tuf. (crosses, r.) But you were old, and I was 
young, and should be still, if it wasn't for all the suffering 
you have caused me. 

Tuf. Oh ! 

Mad. Tuf. (crying). Some day, — do you understand, 
sir ? — I shall go home to my mother. 

Tuf. (screams). Enough, 'enough ! 

Tib. (aside). One must fall ill very easily in this 
house. 

Enter Placide. 

Plac. (enters precipitately from dining-room). Hold 
your tongues ! 

All. What is it ? 

Plac. Monsieur Marteau — he's got his nervous at- 
tack. 

Tib. The devil! ( To Bergerin.) I say, then, don't 
present me just now. 

Berg. Bah! he's always just so. 

Mad. Tuf.* I'm going home. 

* Tiburce, Bergerin, Placide, Mad. Tuffier, Tuflier. 



22 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg. You leave us ? 

Tuf. Of course. Madame Tuffier might possibly be 
useful now, if Marteau is sick : so she goes off as she came, 
— mal apropos. 

Mad. Tuf. Monsieur Turner, you are a mere insect, 
-a reptile. (Exit.) 

Plac. Here he comes: there's a face for you! By 
jingo, I'm off! (Exit.) 

.(Marteau enters from dining-room, hands behind 
his back, head hanging mournfully. All regard him in 
silence. He shakes Tuffier's hand without looking at 
him, and passes without a word. The same with Berge- 
ri]S". Coming to Tibtjrce, who tries to avoid him, he takes 
his hand without looking at him ; is about to shake it / 
raises his head, and regards Tibtjrce with amazeme?it / 
drops his hand, turns his back upon him, and crosses from 
left to right to take chair near the table.) 

Berg, {to Mart.) You are not well, eh ? 

Mart. No. 

Berg. Nerves ? 

Mart. Yes. 

Tuf. Change of wind ? 

Mart. Yes. 

Berg. I said so. Dry weather. 

Tuf. TRain. 

Mart. Yes, a storm. 

Berg, {to Mart.) Supposing you tried Pulverma- 
cher's chains. (Marteau opens newspap>er.) 

Tuf. Or Paullinia. ( To Marteau, who holds out paper 
to him.) Do you want me to read ? (Marteau makes 
affirmative sign, indicates the passage, and sits on the 
causeuse. ) 

Tuf. (reads). Ten thousand francs reward to the man 



A NERVOUS SET. 23- 

who can cure an inveterate nervous affection. Apply at 
Monsieur M's, 35 Church Street, Batignolles. {Sj^oken.) 
You ? {Affirmative sign from Marteau.) And somebody 
has come ? (Marteau raises ten fingers.} 

Berg. Quacks ? {Affirmative sign.) 

Tuf. Well, where are they? (Marteau extends foot.) 
Kicked out? {Affirmative sign.) 

Tib. {half aloud). Well, that gives him a chance to 
vent his nerves on somebody {makes the same gesture of 
kicking). 

Mart, {rises, stares at him with surprise, and pidls 
Bergerin's sleeve, indicating Tiburce). Where does 
that creature come from ? 

Berg, {to Tib.) Ah ! now you're caught : so I'll pre- 
sent you. My dear Marteau, this is Monsieur Tiburce, em- 
ployed in my old bureau in the post-office. 

Tib. {bows to Mart.*) Mail Court, Staircase G, Claim 
Bureau. 

Mart. Well, what do you claim ? 

Tib. {taken aback). Why, good heavens ! — I — 

Mart. As for me, I claim nothing : so it must be you. 

Tib. Well — that is — I — {to Bergerin), can't you 
help me? 

Berg, {seated on causeuse). Oh, no ! my dear Mend, I 
can't: that might bring on a discussion ; and that, if I 
know myself, would be just fatal. 

Mart. Well, sir. Come, speak up. 

Berg, {nudging him). Speak up. 

Tib. Well, the fact is — 

Berg. Come, go ahead. 

Tib. {bowing to Mart). Dear and honored sir — ahem. 
An official of the Central Post-office, Mail Court, Staircase 
G — 

* Bergerin, Tiburce, Marteau, Tufner. 



24 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg. Yes, that's agreed to. 

Tib. After serving a year as — a — supernumerary, and 
at present salaried at the rate % of twelve hundred francs 
per annum, to which must be added an income of twelve 
thousand francs left me by my deceased parents ; being 
certain, besides, of rapid promotion, thanks to the protec- 
tion of my chief and of his eminent predecessor {bowing 
to Bergeron). 

Berg. Hear, hear ! 

Tib. I venture (bows to Marteau), sir, to solicit the 
unequalled honor of your alliance, and aspire to the hand 
of your fair daughter. 

Mart. Lucie ? 

Tib. No: the other, if you please. 

Mart. Marion ? 

Tib. Mademoiselle Marion. Yes, sir. 

Mart. Do you know Marion ? 

Tib. From having had the honor of dancing with her 
quite often this winter. 

Mart, (to the rest). Now, tell me, isn't this just of a 
piece with my pursuing fate ? My dinner went wrong, the 
mutton wasn't cooked, the chicken was burnt, the cof- 
fee was cold, my digestion was out of order ; and all that 
was wanting to upset it entirely was just such an idiotic 
performance as this, and, of course, here it is brought on. 
Oh ! it's my destiny. It's some trick you want to play 
me, — come, isn't it ? * (To Bergerin.) 

Berg, (takes snuff). I, — I scout the idea : decide just 
as you choose. 

Mart. How can I decide any thing? Do I know the 
gentleman? have I ever danced with him? (Walks up 
and dovm.) 

Tib. (humbly). I must confess I have not had that 
honor. 

* Bergerin (seated), Marteau, Tiburce, Tufiier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 25 

Mart. Do I know his good and bad points? — his tem- 
perament above all; for that's the most vital question, — a 
son-in-law's temperament. Now, is his a nervous tem- 
perament? 

Tib. No, sir. 

Mart, {continuing his walk, and going up). San- 
guine ? 

Tib. No. 

Mart, (coming down). Bilious ? 

Tib. No. 

Mart. Bilioso-sanguine ? 

Tib. Not at all. 

Mart. Nervoso-sanguine ? 

Tib. Not that, either. 

Mart. Nervoso-bilioso-sanguine ? 

Tib. (frightened). Devil a bit! 

Mart, (stops short, to Berg.) I say — he's got no tem- 
perament at all. 

Berg. Well, how should I know ? 

Tib. But — 

Mart. No temperament, therefore no character ; 
ergo, he isn't a man. (Goes up and pokes fire.) 

Tib. (indignant). What! On the contrary — 

The. (to Tib.) Well, well, we'll see. Really, now, 
what is your temperament ? 

Tib. But, sacrebleu ! no one ever asked me in my life. 

Berg. Why don't you answer ? 

Tib. (half aloud) * At this rate, it seems that I must 
absolutely have a temperament of some sort. 

Tuf. (to Berg.) Of course. 

Tib. Well, let's see. (To Bergerin.) Help me a little, 
can't you ; you're a there. Couldn't I be sanguine, for in- 
stance ? 

* Bergerin, Tiburce, Tuffier, Marteau. 



26 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart, {turns round, tongs in hand). Sanguine, ergo 
predisposed to apoplexy and congestion. Danger for 
the wife, for the children, for the father-in-law. Candi- 
date rejected. 

Tib. No, no ! I was saying I wasn't sanguine at all, but 
bilious. Will that suit you, — bilious ? 

Mart. Bilious, ergo predisposed to melancholy, blue 
devils, and insanity. Candidate rejected. 

Tib. Excuse me, I recollect now. I am not bilious, — 
far from it. 

Mart, {quickly coming down) . Then you're nervous? * 

Tib. Nervous ? 

Mart., Berg., and Tuf. Yes ? 

Tib. {embarrassed). Why, in fact lam, — and then 
I'm not. 

All Three. Explain yourself. 

Tib. Well, it's just here. I am if you wish it ; but, it 
you don't wish it — 

Mart. You had better believe I don't wish it. It 
would only need a nervous son-in-law to drive me mad. 

All Three. Yes, indeed. 

Mart. Examine yourself, therefore, young man, and 
let's be quick. If you are not of a sweet and obliging dis- 
position, and easy to live with ; if you are not apt in 
choosing topics of conversation agreeable to me ; if you 
can't ring the bell, laugh, and blow your nose, without 
noise, talk on a low key, and never stir exeept in case of 
absolute necessity — 

Tib. But I — 

Mart. In short, if you continue to use the hair-oil 
you've got on now, and if all your waistcoats are of that 
loud and insulting style, you're not my man. Candidate 
rejected. 

Tib. Well, I — 

* Bergerin, Tiburce, Marteau, Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 27 

Mart. And, to convince you that I'm in earnest, you 
may know that I've just turned out of doors a young fel- 
low of wit and education, my sister's own son, my nephew 
Caesar, just because he aggravated my nerves. So examine 
yourself, and if you are of a nature to get provoked, and to 
provoke me, and to get us both exhausted {goes to sit 
on chair near table) — 

Tib. {following). But allow me — 

Mart. You understand, I hope, that I've no desire to 
get rid of Marion ? 

Tib. Most assuredly, I — 

Mart. And that, when I want to marry her off — 

Tib. Oh! I don't doubt — 

Mart. I shall have no trouble in finding — 

Tib. Most indubitably — 

Mart, {for some time impatient ; jumps up, and 
bursts out). D — n it, man, let me speak ! don't catch up 
every word that way. 

Tib. Yes, sir. {Aside.) What a fire-cracker for a 
pa-in-law ! 

Mart. I was saying, then, that I should have no 
trouble in finding a son-in-law at least equally good-look- 
ing and talented. 

Tib. {vexed). But — 

Mart. For I imagine you'd hardly set the river on 
fire. 

Tib. {to Berg.) How d — d aggravating he is! 

Mart, {signing him to approach). You're not hand- 
some, either; {movement o/'Tiburce', who crosses, r.) but 
that I ojon't require. The vital question for me, as I said 
before, is the temperament of my son-in-law. I don't in- 
tend that my poor Marion shall have to suffer from her 
husband's nerves, like my departed angel; for I'd be 
willing to bet that it was my nerves that killed Madame 
Marteau. 



28 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg, (tranquilly)., I'm firmly convinced of it. 

Mart. So I've just sworn that my two daughters shall 
marry no matter who and no matter what, so long as 
no matter what's not nervous. There you are now, 
nailed ! 

Tib. Why, my dear sir, I'm just your man exactly; 
for I'm not in the least nervous. I'll take my Bible oath 
I'm not nervous. 

Mart. Oh ! you'll swear it, I don't doubt ; it's very easy 
to swear. (Aside.) We'll try that in half a minute (gives 
Tiburce, when he least expects it, violent slap on shoulder 
with loud yell / then catches his wrist with one hand, and 
pulls out watch with the other). 

Tib. Thunder! You've most dislocated my shoulder. 

Mart, (counting pulse). That's nothing. (Aside.) 
Good pulse, steady and calm. Now for another test 
(goes to sofa). Come here, young man (makes the 
motion of scratching the velvet the icrong way) ; just try 
that a little in order to see — 

Tib. Scratch the velvet ! (Aside.) Here's an exam- 
ination ! ( Scratches away furiously. ) 

Berg, and Tuf. (agaces). Enough, enough! 

Mart, (teeth on edge). Very well, young man. 

Tib. Is it over ? 

Mart.* Not yet. (Offers knife and cork taken from 
sideboard.) Take this knife, now, and this cork, and cut. 
(Tiburce cuts ; the cork squeaks. Tuffier, Bergerin, 
and Marteau grit their teeth.) 

Mart., Tuf., and Berg, {shout). Enough, enough ! 

Tib. There ! (Tuffier snatches away knife and 
cork.) 

Mart, (with admiration). Didn't flinch, didn't grit 
liis teeth, didn't wink. Admirable! 

* Tiburce, Bergerin (higher up), Marteau, Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 29 

• 

Berg. Astounding ! * 

Mart, (solemnly). That will suffice, young man : you 
are not nervous. I hereby extend you ray permission to 
aspire to the hand of Marion. 

Tib. What happiness ! 

Mart. Why, you feel nothing: you are a real ma- 
chine. Lord bless ray soul, you are just the man I've been 
wanting. Now I can be just as nervous as I cl — n 
please, and always have somebody to fall back on. 

Tuf. (squeezing Tib.'s hand). And so can I. 

Berg, (ditto). And so can I. 

TiB.f Ah ! but excuse me. 

Mart. Son-in-law without nerves, come to my arms 
(embrace). 

Enter, Louis. 

Lou. (enters in time tohear M arte au. Screams). Son- 
in-law ! 

Berg., Tuf., and Mart, (start). Ah! 

Mart. Ah ! d — n that fellow. 

Lou. % This gentleman your son-in-law ? 

Mart. Undoubtedly. 

Lou. (shouts). No: that shall never be. 

Mart. Eh ? 

Tuf. Will you hold your tongue ? 

Lou. I won't have him marry Marion : I forbid him 
to marry her. * 

Tib. (amazed). I say, though — 

Mart. Leave the room, sir ! 

Lou. Yes, I forbid him ; and, if he does marry her, I'll 
kill him. 

* Tuffier, Tiburce, Marteau, Bergerin. 
f Tuffier, Tiburce, Marteau (behind him), Bergerin. 
X Tiburce, Tuffier, Louis, Marteau, Bereerin. 
3* 



30 A NERVOUS SET. 

All. Good God ! 

Tib. {frightened). Sir! 

Lou. {stamps and 'strikes chair'). Yes, I'll kill him. 

Tcjf. He'll kill him ! 

Mart. He's killing him ! 

Berg. He's killed him ! 

Lou. (beside himself). And I'll set the house afire. 

Mart. My house afire ! 

Tib., Tuf., and Berg, (losing their heads). Fire, fire! 

Enter, Cesar. 

Caesar (bursts in). Fire? Where? 

Lou. {runs to Caesar). Ah, Caesar ! 

Mart, {in centre, extended on arm-chair, and unable to 
stir). My nephew. 

Cm*, (to Lou.) Whereabouts? where is it? 

Lou. What ? 

Oes. The fire. 

Lou. Oh ! nowhere. 

Tuf. (leaning back, l.) Oh, my nerves ! 

Berg, (ditto, r.) My nerves ! 

Mart, (centre). My nerves ! 

Tib. (aside). Murder! What sort of a house is this ? 

CLes. Then we're not afire here ? All right. {Boies 
■to Marteau.) Good-morning, uncle ! I'm pretty well, I 
thank you : how are you ? 

Mart, (still reclining, and in plaintive voice). Wretch? 
I thought I had turned you out with my malediction ! 

Ces. You're right, uncle, you did. But you see I had 
to bring it back. Nobody would lend me a cent on it. 

Mart, {sits up). You don't say! Well, you rascal! 
.now I intend that you shall clear out. Who asked you to 
come inside my doors again ? 

C^es. (tranquilly). Why, you did. 



A NERVOUS SET. 31 

Mart. I ? 

CLes. (takes out paper). Just read there : "Ten thou- 
sand francs reward to the man who can cure " — 

Mart. My advertisement ! 

CLes. (folding paper). Ten thousand francs, — that's 
just about my figure; and when I saw, " 35 Church Street, 
Batignolles," I said to myself, "By Jove! it's Uncle Mar- 
teau ; and we can keep it snug in the family; come along." 
And it seems I've arrived just in time, eh ? 

Mart, (rises). Listen to me. 

Cjss. Yes. ■ 

Mart. Do you want to cure me really ? 

Cjes. Really. 

Mart. Then be off at once. 

Ces. No, no, no ! I don't treat my patients that way. 
I should be no sooner gone than you'd be off in another 
{imitates nervous Jit) — I must make a perfect cure, — 
one that folks will talk about. 

Mart, (to Berg.) Suppose I call the watch ? 

Cjes. Watch! Oh! you won't need a watcher: I'll 
take care of that. (Marteatt, in despair, raises his hands 
to heaven.) (Cjesar turns to Tuffier and Bergerin). 
Butdon't interrupt your affairs, I beg of you : that don't 
nffect the treatment. What were you talking about so 
lively when I came in ? 

Tuf. We were talking of marriage. 
Ces. (behind table) . Marriage! Do you always dis- 
cuss it in that style ? Who's going to be married, — you ? 
Mart, (starts). I?* 

C.ES. No? Then it must be Monsieur Bergerin going 
to marry Placide. 

Berg. Well, that's flattering. ( Goes up near vrindoio.) 

* Tiburce, (Louis and Tuffier higher up), Marteau, Caesar, Bergerin. 



32 A NERVOUS SET. 

Cass, (points to Lou.) Then it's the young one and 
Lucie. 

Lou. No, indeed ! 

CLes. So much the better, Then it's to Marion ? 

Mart. Likely story ! 

CLes. (comes down before fireplace, r.*) Well, what 
is there so very astonishing in that ? I know little Louis, 
— I know him from a child : he is a little crazy, but — 

Mart. A little! He needs a strait-waistcoat, that's all. 

Lou. (between his father and Mart.) O Monsieur 
Marteau ! • 

Tuf. (piqued, rising}. But, any way, I don't see 
that you are called upon to put yourself out in the matter. 
I believe we have not yet asked you for your daughter. 

CLes. {to Tuf.) No ; but that's what you ought to do. 

Lou. Of course it is. 

Mart. Is it? Well, you'd better try it. 

Tuf. Thank you ; I guess not. 

Mart. Why, he isn't a man : he's a Yoltaic pile, a 
Leyden jar, an electric battery. 

Lou. But Monsieur Marteau, after all — 

Tuf. Will you go away, you wicked boy ? 

Lou. Oh ! that's the style, is it ? (Knocks hat dozen 
on his head.) Well, no ; I won't go away. 

Mart. Do you see ? The rascal! 

Cjes. Come, come. He's a fine fellow, and so am I ; and 
you — you're one of the best men in the world, with all 
your oddities; and I hope you don't entertain the absurd 
idea of giving Marion that gentleman with his funny head 
for a husband. (Points at Tiburce.) 

Tib. Sir ! 

Mart. Precisely so, sir. I do entertain that grotesque 
idea ; and I was only waiting for your consent. 

* Tiburce, Louis, Tuffier. ilarteau, Bergerin near window, Caesar. 



A NERVOUS SET. 33 

C^s. All right. I refuse it. 

Mart. Did you ever! 
(Bergerin comes down, and sits on chair at fable to read 

paper.) 

CLes. Bad marriages! Why, one sees nothing else; 
all the more reason to make a good one once in a while. : 
so that's arranged. Bergerin shall marry Placide ; Louis, 
Marion ; and I, Lucie. What do you say to that idea? 

Mart, (stupefied). I say (to Bergerin and Tuffier) 
by George ! he is superb. 

(Les. In the first place, I'm superb (that's one advan- 
tage) ; and then I love the dear child (that's an idea of 
mine, and a pretty old one) : she knows it ; and she don't 
say no : so she means yes ; and there it is, then — set- 
tled. 

Mart, (to Berg, and Tuf.) I declare, I don't know 
if I'm dreaming. What ! here's a rascal whom I've 
turned out, who comes back as brassy as you please, and 
marries off Peter, and marries off Paul. No : but just 
look at it now ; isn't it too good a joke ? Oh ! you'll lay 
down the law in my house, will you ? Well, now, perhaps 
this marriage wouldn't have come off; for after all, on re- 
flection, this fellow didn't suit me exactly. 

Tib. Eh! 

Mart. But he shall marry her now, I'm determined, 
if it's only to make you burst with rage. 

CLes. So you will marry your daughter out of spite. 

Mart. Out of spite if you choose ; but I'll marry her. 
You'll see then if I'm the master in my own house. And 
as to your fine projects in regard to Lucie (strikes Tuffier 
on shoulder) — now see how I'll humiliate him, if I don't 
bring him down a peg or two (strikes Bergerin on shoul- 
der, who wakes up, and goes to sit on chair behind 



34 A NERVOUS SET. 

(Les. Ah ! now : suppose we see what he's going to 

do * (SitS, R.) 

Mart. ^ ort hless rascal! do you talk of being mar- 
ried ? 

Cms. Why, yes. 

Mart. Have you got even an occupation, a trade ? 
What do you call yourself? 

CLes. A philosopher, uncle. 

Mart. Where do you carry on that business ? 

(Les. In the open air. 

Mart. And you live by it ? 

C^:s. Oh, no ! 

Berg. Then, how does he live ? 

Mart. Yes, how do you live ? 

CLes. I don't live, uncle. I just exist; and even that's 
something. 

Mart. Anyway, you eat well? 

(Les. No, I don't : I eat ill. 

Mart. What did I tell you ? — a mere Bohemian. 

Berg, and Ttjf. A Bohemian ! 

(Les. Give me your income, and I'll settle down. 

Mart. Earn it then, lazy. 

(Les. Ah ! now the murder's out, — lazy. Well, now, 
I advise you to call me lazy: it sounds well, — you who 
only had the trouble of inheriting your wife's money, and 
who never did in your whole life one-quarter of the work 
I do every day in order to pay my rent. (Striking on the 
books, tohich BEnG^nii^ prudently takes away one by one.) 
Have you ever been as I have, one after the other, tutor, — 
work fit for a dog ; bailiff's clerk, cashiered for his human- 
ity; employe, ridiculed for his zeal; writer, unpopular 
because original ; salesman, book-keeper, printer, trans- 

* Tiburce, Louis, Tuffier, Marteau, Bergerin, Caesar. 



A NERVOUS SET. 35 

lator, inventor, cheated for the benefit of others, taken 
advantage of, lived on, and always just missing a million 
for the want of a hundred thousand, a hundred thousand 
for the want of ten thousand, ten thousand for the want 
of five hundred, and five hundred for the want of five 
francs? (Final blow on table, which Bergerin draws 
away.) 

Mart, (agace). Great Heavens ! 

Ces.* Ah ! you call me lazy, — you whose only work 
is to scold your servants, and to pet your imaginary and 
pretended nerves. 

Tuf. and Berg. Our pretended nerves! 

Mart, {clinching his fists). Brouhouhou! 

CLes. Yes, Brouhouhou. Stick your head in a bucket 
of water : that'll calm you. What are these make-believe 
men made of? — fastidious as cats. 

Mart., Tuf., Berg. Cats ! 

CLes. Yes, cats, —just such nervous and lazy animals 
as you, and very nearly as selfish. Monsieur Bergerin 
rolls himself up in his eider-down, and won't think about 
those who are freezing, — a cat ! Monsieur Tufiier has a 
nervous attack. Good God! you mustn't ask him for 
money.; he'd have a fit, — a fit of avarice and selfishness, 
— a cat ! Monsieur Marteau has his nerves : that means 
Monsieur Marteau has nothing to do, and so he must 
yawn, get bored, and occupy himself in driving other 
people mad. Tom-cats, tom-cats, tom-cats ! t 

Mart. Grant me patience! Once, twice, and three 
times — will you be off? 

Cjes. No! I came to cure you; and, r by all the devils, 
I will cure you. 

Mart. Whether I will or not ? 



* Tiburce, Tuffier, Caesar, Bergerin, Marteau. 
f Tiburce, Turner, Caesar, Marteau, Bergerin. 



36 A NERVOUS SET. 

Cjes. Whether you will or not, and Bergerin too, and 
Tuffier also, in spite of them, and all the house too, — in 
ten visits at a thousand francs each. 

Mart. Well, just have the front to present yourself 
here once more — 

C^es. Oh ! I shall have it. 

Mart. I'll lock" the door. 

Cjes. I'll get in at the window. 

Mart, (furious, held by Tuf.) My cane ! 

CLes. There's for you ! And we shall all enjoy a pure 
and unmixed felicity — he with Marion — 

Lou. Yes, yes ! 

CLes. (taking his hat). And I with Lucie. Such 
being the case, I think that will do for the first day of 
treatment. ( To Tiburce.) Come on, young man ; say 
good-by to the company, and come along with me. 

Tib, I? 

CLes. Come along : you'd get spoiled here. 

Tib. Here ! let go. 

CLes. (pulling him along). First prescription, uncle : 
see you again to-morrow. 

Berg., Mart., Tuf. Oh! 

Cjes. Sta-boy ! cats, cats ! (Runs out, dragging Ti- 
burce. Marteau falls exhausted on chair.) 

End of Act I. 



A NERVOUS SET. 



ACT II. 

THE SAME SCENE. 

Lucie playing scales on piano ; Marion, r., winding 
clock on mantelpiece ; M arte ait, centre, seated in large 
arm-chair, feet on stool, is enveloped with electric chains, 
which prevent his moving. Clock strikes, successively, 
nine, half-past, ten, half-past, &c. Placide, at back, 
dusting in ante-chamber. 

Mart, {after pause, angrily) . Marion ! 

Marion. Papa ? ( Continues to turn hands.) 

Mart, (gently). No, I mustn't get angry. With these 
electro-magnetic chains on, the currents, and then the 
fluid, — no one can tell what mightn't happen. ( Very 
gently.) Haven't you most done, my darling? 

Mar. But, papa, I must set it right. 

Mart. Supposing you should skip some, my pet ? 

Mar. • What an idea, pa ! It would strike all wrong. 
I'll be done in a minute. There's only eleven and twelve : 
it's half-past twelve now. (Clock strikes eleven.) 

Mart, (aside). Now, some clocks would arrange it so 
as to have only one or two hours to strike ; but that fel- 
low — I believe he just does it on purpose — stops so as 
to have to be swung round the entire circle. 

Mar. (striking the half-hour). Courage, papa! only 
twelve left. 

Mart. It's astonishing, now, what these small articles 
can invent in the way of aggravation. Now, when I try 
to wind that fellow up, I'm sure to find a hand over one 

4 



38 A NERVOUS SET. 

of the holes : he knows it aggravates me, and never fails 
to do it. {Clock strikes twelve.') The devil and Tom 
Walker! it's enough to drive one mad! Lucie! 

Luc. {without stopping her scales). Papa? 

Mart, {aside). But I forgot I mustn't get angry. 
( Gently?) Lucie, my love, is it absolutely necessary that 
you should do that ? 

Luc. Play my scales? 

Mart. Yes. 

Luc. Why, papa, I must learn. 

Mart. That's true : she must learn. I'll have that 
piano carried into the garden. 

Luc. That'll keep it in good tune. 

Mar. Yes, indeed. 

Mart. Apropos of gardens, just call Placide, now I 
think of it. 

(Marion goes to door at back to call Placide.) 

Luc. {leaving piano). Why, papa! what's all that 
you've got coiled round you ? 

Mart, {frightened). Don't touch! 

Luc. Will he bite ? 

(Marion and Placide come down.) 

Mart. It's electric. 

All Three. Electric! 

Mart. Like lightning. In fact, the lightning holds 
me in its mighty arms, so I daren't stir. The least spark — 

Plac.* Well, that's an idea, — to wind that round your 
body to keep the thunder off. 

Mart. You ignoramus ! It's to restore the nervous 
circulation : it's electricity. 

Plac. Electricity ! well, I know that as well as you. 
It's a telegraph, hey, that the little post-office chap 

* Lucie, Marion, Marteau, Placide. 



A NERVOUS SET. 39 

brought you? for that's the way they send their letters 
now ; and three-quarters get lost on the road. 

Mart. Ah, good heavens ! have you done ? If so, 
will you do me the favor to listen to me ? 

Plac. Well, what is it now? 

Mart. It's this ; that, if my nephew Cassar presents 
himself — 

Plac. Well, I'll let him in. What then ? 

Mart. You'll shut the door in his face. Do you un- 
derstand ? 

Plac. I think I see myself. Why should I go shut- 
ting doors in this young man's face, who has always been 
so polite to me ? 

Mart. Because he isn't to me. 

Plac. Oh! I don't intend to be mixed up in your 
foolishness. Settle your quarrel your own way : it's none 
of my business. 

Mart. By heavens ! 

Plac. {without listening to him). No, no, no, no ! 

Mart. Oh ! you're lucky that the lightning's got me 
now, and that I daren't get in a passion. 

Plac. Oh ! Well, of course nobody must say such a 
thing; but if that could curb your temper a little, and 
prevent your being so outrageous — 

Mart. Lucie ! Marion ! 

Luc. and Mar. Papa ! 

Mart. Turn her out. I feel I'm going off. 

Luc. Yes, papa. . 

Mar. (to Plac.) Get away. 

Plac. {tranquilly). It's only the telegraph working. 
Listen! 

Mart, {rises furious) . I dismiss you! 

Plac. (laughs). Yes, sir. 

Mart. But not like the other times, you understand : 
now it's for good. 



40 A NERVOUS SET. 

Plac. (laughs). Yes, sir. Well, if that's the way it 
calms his nerves — 

Mart, (breaks chain, and throws it at her}. There ! 

Plac. Mercy ! (Runs out laughing^) 

Mar. and Luc. (seek to restrain him). Papa, dear! 

Mart. Take that too. (Throics another piece after 
her in the vestibule ; comes back, and falls into chair.') 
She'll kill me ! 

Luc. (seeking to calm him). There, there, papa! 

Mar. How can one get into such a state? 

Mart. I'm not in such a state. You're a pair of little 
fools ! Go to your piano, and play your scales. 

Luc. and Mar. Yes, papa. (JBoth sit at piano.) 

Mart. Only to think that I've been in chains since 
seven this morning, to arrive at this result ! (Lucie and 
Marion begin to play sccdes for four hands.) And now it's 
one, and I'm not even shaved, and that young man will 
be here. O Marion ! 

Mar. (playing). Papa? 

Mart. I order you to give a good reception to Mon 
sieur Tiburce, who will be here directly. Do you hear 
me? 

Mar. (playing). Yes, papa. 

Mart. And if you ever dare to listen to that villain 
of a Louis ! The scoundrel has told you he loves you, has 
he? 

Mar. (playing*). Yes, papa. 

Mart. Yes, papa! — did you ever? And the other 
chap, who graciously lends his countenance to his cousin's 
offers of marriage — ah! I'll give you cousins enough. 
(Knocking on ceiling from story above.) I'm talking to 
you, Ma'amselle Lucie. Do you hear ? 

Luc. (playing). Yes, papa. 

Mart. I forbid you — (Knocking on ceiling.) Who's 
that up there pounding? 



A NERVOUS SET. 



41 



Luc. (playing*). Yes, papa. 

Mart. Well, I forbid you — (Knocking redoubled.) 
But who the devil is that pounding up there ? 

Luc. and Mar. (playing). Yes, papa. 

Mart, (exasperated). Oh, yes, papa! With- that piano, 
and bang, bang, bang, I don't know where I've got to. 
Ah ! if the day begins this way — (Bursts out.) Are 
you going to stop ? 

(Enter Bergerin with tongs, and Tuffier with cane.) 

Tuf. Why, good God ! make theni stop. 

Berg. Are you going to stop ? 

Mart* Was it you, then, pounding over my head ? 

Tuf. (points to Berg.) He was pounding over mine. 

Mart. That's very witty : it's an excellent joke for 
men of our age. 

Tuf. What do you mean by a joke? 

Berg. Well, that's a good one. Here have I been 
hearing for half an hour (imitates scales) — you'd say it 
was a dance going on. I thought it was Madame Turner, 
and so I knocked at Turner. 

Tuf. And I was knocking back at Bergerin. 

Mart.| • And that's the way you expect to prevent 
their playing the piano ! 

Berg. Let 'em play, my dear friend, let 'em play ; only 
one at a time, file firing, — one down, and another come 
on, — not volley by platoons. 

Tuf. Only they don't play tunes (imitates scale). 

Mar. Well, how about pieces for two ? 

Luc. The four-handed pieces. 

Tuf. There aren't any four-handed pieces. 

Berg. Nature has foreseen the case, and only given 
us two hands. 

* Bergerin, Marion, Lucie higher up, Tuffier, Marteau. 
t Bergerin, Marion, Marteau, Lucie, Tuffier. 
4* 



42 A NERVOUS SET. 

Tuf. (knocks with cane). And when we use them 
well — 

Mart. Oh ! I heard you. 

Berg. Well, if we had both pounded together — 

Tuf. A four-handed piece. 

Berg. Here's about the effect it would have had. (Both 
knock with all their might.) 

Mart. Here, would you like to know my opinion? 
Well, I pity you, I pity you. 

Mar. There ! Now we sha'n't be able to play any 
more : that's pleasant. 

Tuf. Very pleasant for us. 

Miter Madame Tuffier. 

Mad. Tuf. Why do you pay any attention to them : 
aren't they always complaining about something ? (Sits 
behind table. Marteau sits on causeuse.) 

Tuf.* Ah ! you've come into the conversation for a 
wonder. 

Mad. Tuf. Well, who's a better right ? I say it's all 
affectation. 

Tuf. Like the perfumes, which you can't smell with- 
out going off in hysterics. 

Mad. Tuf. It isn't the same thing. 

Tuf. It is the same thing. 

Mad. Tuf., Luc, Mar. It isn't the same thing. 

Berg, (aside). There! three women on you. Get out 
of that ! 

Mar. Perfumes enervate you at once. 

Luc. Go into your head. 

Mar. Especially pomade: like that gentleman's yes- 

* Bergerin (standing), Marteau (seated), Marion, Mad. Tuffier, and Lucie 
(seated), Tuffier (standing). 



A NERVOUS SET. 43 

terday (to her father), — Monsieur Tiburce, whom I've 
danced with this season. Heavens ! didn't he smell of 
vanilla. Whew! 

All Three. Whew ! 

Mart. That's true ; but he has promised never to put 
on any more. 

Enter Placide. 

Plac. (unperceived, and collecting sheets of music on 
piano). The fact is, that the parlor smelled so this 
morning, I was obliged to open all the windows. 

Tuf. Here's the other one. 

Berg. That makes four. 

Mart, (rising). Have you come here again? 

Plac* Why, now that you've got out of your light- 
ning-rod (takes tongs ate ay from Bergerin) — * 

Mart. Didn't 1 discharge you ? — say. 

Plac. Oh, yes! These twenty years you have dis- 
charged me every morning; but I haven't gone off much 
for all that. 

Mart, (to Tuf. and Berg.) Well, what do you 
think of her ? 

Plac. A pretty kettle of fish ! As if I didn't know 
better than you what you want. I should just like to see 
you find my fellow. 

Mart. I don't doubt. 

Plac. I think I see myself leaving you. IvTo, no! the 
goat must browse where she's tied. 

Mart, (furious). Well, browse, but hold your 
tongue. 

Plac. Because I refused to shut the door on Mr. 
Caesar. 

* Bergerin, Placide, Marteau, Marion, Mad. Tuffler, Lucie, Tuffier. 



44 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mad. Tuf. (who has been off wool- gathering, hears the 
last word). Caesar! has he come back? 

Mart. Yes, the puppy ! 

Mad. Tuf. {turning over pamphlet). Ah ! I'm very 
glad. - 

Mart, (astonished). Why so? 

Mad. Tuf. He must be covered with mud. 

Mart. What? (General surprise.) 

Tuf. (aside.) Good ! Now she thinks it's the porter's 
dog. 

Mad. Tuf. Isn't he grateful? He always remembers 
that I pulled out that bone that stuck in his throat. 

Mart. You pulled a bone out of my nephew's throat! 

Mad. Tuf. (rising). Oh! you're talking about your 
nephew, are you ? 

Mart. I should imagine so. 

Mad. Tuf. (comes down). Well, Heaven bless you ! 

Tuf. It does need some patience. 

Mad. Tuf. You annoy me; you — 

Luc. Poor Madame Turner ! 

Mad. Tuf. I say, I say, my little chit, this tone of com- 
miseration don't please me at all (goes up, and sits on 
sofa). 

Luc. O madame ! I hope you don't imagine — 

Plac* Here's the question, ma'am. Monsieur Marteau 
wants me to turn away Mr. Caesar. 

Mad. Tuf. (not listening). I'm pretty old; but I don't 
drivel yet. 

Plac. A fine young man, so gentlemanly! 

Mad. Tuf. And, after all, it isn't everybody who can 
arrive at my age, and — 

Plac And that in order to let in a Monsieur Tiburce. 

* Bergerin, Marion, Marteau, Placide, Ma 1. Tuffier, Lucie, Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 45 

Mad. Tuf. I've got good eyes, good legs — * 

Plac. An idiot ! 

Mart, (to Plac.) Hold your tongue ! 

Mad. Tuf. (furious, rises) . Who dares order me to 
hold my tongue ? 

Mart, (screams'). No, no! it's — 

Plac. Oh, well ! if you won't hear me — ( Goes up.) 

Mad. Tuf. What's that ? The very servant insults me. 

Plac. I? 

Tuf. (exasperated). Oh, oh, oh ! 

Mart, (ditto). Enough to make one jump out of 
window. 

Mad. Tuf. I'm going; good-by! And I'll never 
darken these doors again. (Exit.) 

Mar. and Luc. Madame ! 

Tuf. (alarmed). Don't stop her. Oh! I'm just done 
up. (Falls into chair, r.) 

Plac. It's your Mr. Tiburce who has done it all. 

Luc. Certainly : with his vanilla. 

Mart, (to Mar.) Don't listen to them, Marion : they 
want to influence you. He's a charming fellow. He'll 
leave off his hair-oil, and you'll be perfectly happy. You 
know I only desire your happiness ; don't you ? 

Mar.* But I tell you again, papa, I don't love him. 

Mart. You will love him, my darling, without his 
hair-oil : you'll see you will. Only think, — a man who 
can cut a cork without screaming. Why, you can make 
any thing of him you please. 

Mar. (aside). You sha'n't make a husband for me of 
him, any way! (Ring in vestibule.) 

Berg. Here's Tiburce. 

Luc. (half aloud). Whew! I smell the vanilla. 

* Bergerin, Placide, and Lucie higher up; Marion, Marteau, Tuffier. 



46 A NERVOUS SET. 

Plml {aloud). Nasty; ain't it? {Exit into dining- 
room.') 

Mart. Silence! {To Marion".) Treat him well, now, 
for the sake of your adopted father. 

Berg, {on threshold, announces). Monsieur Tiburce 
Ratisson ! 

Mart.* Come in, my dear sir ; come in ! The ladies 
were just talking of you. 

Mar. {to Luc. at a distance). He's a fright. 

Luc. {ditto). Perfect fright. 

Tib. {botes). You are very good, ladies. 

Luc. Sir! 

Mar. Sir! Come, let's go and pacify Madame Turner. 
{Exeunt, with handkerchiefs at nose.) 

Mart. Ah! I'd just as lief they'd be gone. Now, 
young man, let's sit down and talk seriously, — if we can. 
{All sit.)^ In the first place, you told Monsieur Bergerin 
that you were coming this morning. 

Tib. Yes, sir. 

Mart. Very good. Is it to retract, after yesterday's 
scene ? 

Tib. {rises). O sir! 

Mart, {makes him sit). You're still in the same 
mind, then ? 

Tib. More than ever {rises). 

Mart, {makes him sit). Very good. I congratulate 
you. It was to be feared that your going off with my 
nephew might lead to something. 

Tuf. In the excited state you both were in ; for, as 
for him — 

Berg. How he treated us ! 



* Marion, Marteau, Tiburce, and Bergerin at back; Lucie, Tuffier. 
t Tiburce, Bergerin, Marteau, Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 47 

Tuf. (rising). Treated us like dogs. 

Berg, (ditto). Rather like cats. 

Mart. When you've done — 

Tuf. Go on, go on ! 

Tib. Yes, yes : the truth is, he was rather on his high 
horse ; and I was on mine too. 

Berg., Mart., Tuf. (anxiously). Yes? 

Tib. Oh, yes! It happened just as you might suppose. 

All Three (anxious). Ah! 

Tib. I demanded the explanation of his conduct. 

All Three. Yes ? 

Tib. We got rather heated in talking, you understand ; 
and one thing led to another, until finally — 

All Three. Yes ? 

Tib. We went and had a supper together. 

All Three (surprised). Ah! 

Tib. Yes. Oh ! he's a good fellow, — a little cracked, 
but so jolly ! He made me laugh well ; and we separated 
the best of friends. We call each other by first names. 

Tuf. Well, so much the better. 

Berg. It's more touching. 

Mart. Yes, never mind. Then he didn't say any thing 
to dissuade you ? 

Tib. Nothing. 

Mart, (rising). Didn't your marriage seem to pro- 
voke him somewhat? 

Tib. Not at all. (Aside.) How stupid of me not to re- 
member ! (Aloud.) Yes, yes : what am I saying? Yes, he 
was in a perfect rage, and ended by swearing that the 
marriage should never come off. 

Mart. (sits). Ah! indeed. Well, we'll see about that. 

Tib. (aside). I guess I'm sly enough for him. 

Mart. We'll drop the subject of Monsieur Caesar, and 
come to matters of interest ; for I suppose that is what 
brought you here this morning. 



48 A NERVOUS SET. 

Tib. Matters of interest? — just so. 

Mart. Yes. Bergerin has told you the main point, 
hasn't he ? — namely, that Marion is not my daughter. 

Tib. But an adopted child. Yes, sir. Ah ! that 
speaks well for your heart. 

Mart. Yes : don't interrupt me. We'll say, then, an 
adopted child, brought up in my house like my own 
daughter. 

Tib. I can't speak my admiration for conduct — 

Mart. D — n it ! Don't interrupt me. 

Berg. Don't interrupt him ! D — n it ! 

(Draws out watch, and begins to wind.) 

Tib. No, sir. 

Mart, (provoked by noise of watch). Has he told 
you time, place, and circumstances ? 

Tib. Not a word. 

Mart. Indispensable things, nevertheless. (Leans to- 
wards Bergerin to malce him stop.) . 

Berg, (shows watch). Half-past one ; but I think I'm 
fast. 

Mart. Before considering the other question — 

Tib. (having drawn out loatch). Yes : two minutes 
at least. 

Tuf. (ditto) (to Tib.) I agree with you : that's a 
fact. 

Berg, (interrupting him, and rising). Relate it to 
him then, my dear friend ; for as for me, with my sus- 
ceptible organization, you might as well ask me to act a 
melodrama. (Sets his watch.) The mere recollection 
thrills my nerves with horror. 

(He walks to the fireplace.) 

Tuf. (bloios his ?iose). Certainly, the mere recollec- 
tion — 



A NERVOUS SET. 4.9 

Mart, (agace). Yes, of course: that's agreed to. 
( To Tiburce) You must know then, my dear sir, that one 
January evening — was it January, though, or February? 

Toe. February. 

Berg. January. 

Mart. Yes, it was December ; but no matter for 
that. In the year — 

Berg. 1840. 

Tuf. '39. 

Berg. '40. 

Mart. Well, '39 or '40. 

Berg. '40. I was already second superintendent at 
the Post. 

Mart. Let's say '40. 

Tib. Call it '40, and proceed. 

Mart. Then, young man — 

Berg. There was snow on the ground. 

Tuf. And what a frost ! 

Berg. Why, the mercury stood at — 

Mart. When you've got through, say so. 

Berg. Sho! what's he got now ? 

Tuf. He's worse than ever to-day. 

Berg. Oh, go on, go on ! ( Walks up and down at 
back.) 

Mart. That's lucky {to Tiburce). Then, young man, 
we were just leaving our lawyer's, who had sent for us on 
the most important business. An old friend of ours had 
died, and left us each a considerable legacy. 

Berg, (stops in walk). Yes, — forty thousand francs 
to Marteau — 

Mart. It is not essential to — 

Tuf. (on the other side). Twelve thousand francs to 
Bergerin — 

Mart, (turns to Tuf.) It matters little — 

5 



50 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg. And thirteen thousand francs to Tuffier. 

Mart. But, great Jupiter ! — 

Tuf. (to Tib., rising). You'll remark that's just nine- 
teen years ago. 

Mart. I — 

Berg, (to Tib.) And we've not yet received a sou. 

Mart. Will you — 

Titf. (to Tib.) Still they go on giving us hopes from 
one day to another, — 

(Marteau rises, takes Tuffier by the collar, and sets 
him down on his chair.') 

Tuf. (screams). Well, well ! (Bergerin, frightened, 
sits on piano-stool.) 

Mart. It's enough to drive one mad ! 

Tib. Calm yourself. 

Mart, (waits a momsnt). Ah! at last. (Resuming.) 
Then, young man, we were just leaving — 

Berg. You've said that already. 

Mart, (rises, as though to fall on Bergerix, but sits 
again, nearer Tiburce, on the chair left by Bergerin. 
Tiburce begins to swing his foot). Oh ! (Resumes.) 
I stop in the rue Lafitte to light a cigar in the corner of 
a doorway ; and suddenly I hear at my feet {stops Ti- 
burce's foot) the cry of a child. I stoop, I see a cradle, 
and within an infant in swaddling-clothes. I call these 
gentlemen. Inspired by his excellent heart, Bergerin 
proposed to hand over the child to the porter, and Tuffier 
to carry it to the police-station. The last motion was 
carried. Therefore we repaired to the commissary's, and 
made our statement in form. The child was a girl ; and, 
without adjournment, I proposed to these gentlemen to 
adopt it on the spot. 

Tib. All three of you ? 

Mart. All three of us. Whereupon, brother Tuffier 
commences to cry out, "Murder — 



A NERVOUS SET. 51 

Tuf. I should think so, by Jove ! — with a wife and a 
child. (/Sits in chair left by Martea.it.) 
L Mart. And Bergerin to make his lamentations — 

Berg, (rising, to Tib.) I who have to deny myself 
the one for fear of having the other. (Passes to fi replace.) 

Mart, (to Tib.) Well, here we are again. It was 
just this enthusiasm then. When I saw What's-his-name 
pretending his wife's anxiety, Bergerin gaping in his 
chair, and the child crying on the table, — by George ! it 
touched me. It's true, it did! — the little darling, with 
its cunning little hands all red with cold, left like a bun- 
dle. I thought of my little Lucie quietly asleep in her 
chamber. I rmngined her shivering in the snow at night 
under people's feet. My heart was pierced, and I began 
to weep like a beast. I took the baby under my arm, 
and carried it to the house, squeezing it as if it had been 
my own. 

Tuf. A beautiful impulse ! 

Berg, (warming his feet). Yes, indeed. 

Mart. There we were in the street again — 

Berg, (recommences to walk up and down at back). 
Ah ! I sha'n't forget that night in a hurry. Not a cab, 
and a bitter cold — 

Mart, (annoyed by Bergerin's walking). A snap- 
ping cold, yes, which brightened up my ideas ; so much 
so, that, while walking with the cradle under my arm, — ■ 
{Looks at Bergerin".) He's going to begin again. These 
gentlemen behind me like a christening procession. I be- 
gan to make some mental calculations. " Come, let's see. 
I take the child ; very well. I pay for every thing, and 
undertake the whole ; good : but, when she's grown up, 
who will provide her portion ? " 

Tib. (ceasing to weep). What's that? (Pockets his 
handkerchief.) 



52 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart. Who will give her a dowry ? 

Berg. Yes : who is to give her a dowry? 

Mart. You see, the cares were already beginning. 
An idea struck me. I turn, and say to Bergerin, " I say, 
are you going to leave me the entire charge of the child 
— you two, — are you actually as hard-hearted as that ? " 

Berg, (comes down, r.) Hard-hearted ! I was cry- 
ing more than he was. (Sits on chair at extreme right.) 

Mart, {sits on sofa). With cold, yes. Now, here was 
what I proposed, and they accepted (prick up your ears, 
young man), — to buy a strong box, a real one, you know, 
of iron. 

Tib. Yes. 

Mart. With three different locks, and, consequently, 
three keys. 

Tib. Yes. 

Mart. One for each of us ; for fear of any indis- 
cretion. 

Tib. Yes. 

Mart. And by an opening arranged in the top of the 
said box — like the savings banks — to contribute all 
three what each could economize, taking one year with 
another — one more and one less — just as we chose, 
without any control: so that we should only have to 
open it when Marion should be of age, to be provided 
for, and when we should all agree on the choice of a hus- 
band. Do you understand? (Rises.) 

Tib. (rises). A money-box! 

Mart, (opening the top of the chiffonier, and showing 
the box fastened into the ivood). Which is here. 

Tib. Ah! 

Mart. And which has had some time to fill up in 
eighteen years. 

Tib. (knocldng on box). Then Mademoiselle Marion's 
dowry is in here? 



A NERVOUS SET. 53 

All. Yes. (Tuffier rises.) 

Tib. And for the future you don't bind yourself? 

Mart, (takes his hand). To die in two years. No, 
young man, I can't do that for you. Now, will you 
marry, or won't you marry? 

Tib. (pressing Tuf.'s hand). Oh! I'll marry, I'll 
many; but let's open first.* 

Mart. On the spot ; and we'll settle all without 
adjournment. 

All. Very good (all three feel in pockets). 

CLes. (opening window, and speaking from garden) . 
Very good ; and, if the amount don't suit Monsieur 
Tiburce, Monsieur Tibarcs is your very humble servant, 
and you have your labor for your pains. 

Mart. He again ! 

Gffls. Oh ! I warned you. By the window this time 
(jumps into room) ; and I dare say just in time, too, to 
prevent your making a blunder. 

Tuf. (stops Mart., and calls Berg.) Stop — here — I 
say, though, it strikes me your nephew's right. If the 
dowry don't suit him, then good-evening, f 

Berg. He won't marry. ( Goes to sit on sofa.) 

CLes.J And the spell is broken. Old gentlemen, you 
are still pretty young for your age. 

Tuf. Then we won't open at all. ( Goes up>.) 

Tib. How's that, how's that ? Then where's the 
dowry? She hasn't any, now. 

CLes.§ One word, my son. Do you marry the young 
lady, or the money? 



* Marteau, Tiburce, Tuffier, Bergerin. 
t Marteau, Tuffier, Bcrsrerin, Caspar, Tiburce. 
\ Bergerin, Marteau, Cassur, Tuffier, Tiburce. 
§ Bergerin, Tuffier, Marteau, Caesar, Tiburce. 
5* 



54 A NERVOUS SET. 

Tib. Why, both. 

(Les. Which by choice? 

Tib. {embarrassed). Why, the young lady. 

CLes. Then marry her. We'll open the bank after- 
wards. {Goes up.) 

Tib. How do you expect me to marry without seeing 
the money ? 

Mart. He hesitates. 

Tib. D— d fool ! 

Mart, (turning his back on him). Candidate rejected. 

Tib. Why need he have come in just now? 

Mart. As for you — (Moves toward Cesar.) 

(~Les. (taking his hand). Oh, don't thank me! — 
there's no occasion, — only give me some breakfast : I'm 
hungry as a wolf. (Rings.) 

Mart, (starts back). Breakfast! 

Enter Placide. 

Plac. (enters from dining-room). Mr. Caesar ! 

Cjes. (seated at table) . Coffee, quick ! 

Plac. Right away ! ( To Marteau.) You see he did 
get in. (Huns back into dining-room.) 

Mart. Well, we are going to see how he'll get out. 
My coat, quick ! ( Takes off dressing-gown.) 

Tib. (runs to him.)* But, Monsieur Marteau — 

Mart. Well, what have you got t6 say ? I'll give you 
one hour to decide. 

Tib. One hour! 

Mart. No more ; and if you don't give me your word 
then and here to marry without regard to the money — 

Tib. And suppose I do give it to you ? 

Mart. Before witnesses, very good : then we'll open. 

* Bergerin, Tuffier, Marteau, Tiburce, Caesar. 



A NERVOUS SET. 55 

CLes. {arranging table for breakfast). Well, and sup- 
pose he gives his word, and takes it back afterwards? 

Tuf. That's been seen. 

Berg. Let him try. I'll have him turned out of tho 
post-office. 

Mart. And I'll give him a thrashing. 

Tib. Thank you. 

Mart. Is that understood? 

Tib. I should think so. 

Mart, (looks at watch). You have till two o'clock to 
make your decision. 

Tib. The devil ! 

Plac. (enters with breakfast on waiter, and coat tucked 
under her arm). There's your coat. 

Mart, (takes coat angrily). Is that the way to bring 
a coat? (To Cjesar.) As to you, sir — 

CLes. (sitting down to eat). Good appetite, eh? Thank 
you. 

Mart, (with dignity). I propose to inquire at the 
police-station whether you have a right to break into my 
house. 

C^3. (quietly). You know where it is, I suppose, — 
the police-station. Third street to the left as you go up; 
a red lantern over the door. 

Mart, (taking cans). Oh! (Goes to door.) 

Tib. (stops him, and begs). Monsieur Marteau, just 
give me till to-morrow. 

Mart, (pushes him off). Oh! let me alone you! This 
fellow's always getting under my feet. (Exit, making 
Tiburce spin round.) 

Tib. Monsieur Marteau, Monsieur Marteau ! (Aside.) 
I'd better go and consult my lawyer, — Monsieur Marteau, 
Monsieur Marteau ! (Exit, running.) 

C^s. (aside). It's for us three to settle now ; and I 



56 A NERVOUS SET. 

vow to God, Uncle Martean, you sha'n't open your money- 
box so easy as you think {coffee-pot in hand). Come, 
gentlemen. Coffee must be taken hot. 

Tuf. What ? 

Berg, (rising). Coffee for us! 

Cjes. All, Monsieur Tuffier! you won't refuse me 
that ? 

Tuf.* Oh ! thank you. It would keep me awake for 
a week. 

Berg. So it would me. I have to forego it, — another 
self-denial caused by my unhappy nerves. 

C^es. (cup in hand, seated, r.) Do you know it must 
be terrible to have such organizations ? 

Berg. Oh ! don't speak of it. 

Tuf. A life of self-denial, when one might enjoy 
every thing. 

Berg. With a pretty fortune too. Oh ! it would be 
far better to be poor — 

Tup. And not have any nerves. 

Cjes. Then you could enjoy your coffee when you 
pleased. 

Tuf. Yes, indeed ! 

C^es. Only you would have nothing to buy it with. 

Tuf. (surprised). True. 

Berg, (ditto). That's so! (Aside.) Why, he has a way 
of reasoning things out — this fellow. (C^sar gives him 
cup. Bergerin, astonished jxisses it to Tuffier, who 
puts it on table.) 

Cjes. Well, one can't expect every thing in this world. 

Tuf. and Berg. No. 

Gjes. (rising). For instance, I haven't any thing. 

Tuf. That's rather slim. 

* Cassar, Bergerin, Tuffier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 57 

C^es. Bat I'm well and hearty, while Monsieur Ber- 
gerin — now there's a man who has — how much ? Twen- 
ty to twenty-five thousand francs income ? 

Berg. Oh ! twenty thousand at the very highest. 

CLes. And for himself alone. 

Berg. Alas ! for myself alone. 

CLes. You'll reply to that, that I don't own like him a 
grand suite of apartments big enough for an English 
family, with the duty of promenading there alone with a 
candle i.: order to look at my tongue in every mirror. 
Now, I lodge up six flights; I can sit in the middle, and 
touch all four v*alls; and I can't gape in my own face in 
the mirrors, for twenty-five good reasons : the first is — 

Berg, {with sly air). Wait, let me tell you. I bet I 
know ! It's because there ain't any. {Laughs delighted 
with his own loit.) 

Cjes. That's it. So I have a great advantage over 
him. 

Berg. An advantage ! 

Tuf. Of beino; in bad lodscinjjs. 

CLes. Yes; but I don't care lor my lodgings, don't you 
see. 

Tuf. Well? 

CLes. Well, I can move out whenever my landlord 
says so, — and rather like it. 

Tuf. Well, that's a great argument ! — and so can he. 

CLes. He ! I defy him to. 

Tuf. Well, I like that. 

CLes. He's bored to death in his great barrack : ho 
just vegetates there. But I'll bet you he'd scream like ten 
peacocks if anybody asked him to leave it. 

Berg, {alarmed). Leave my lodgings ! 

CLes. What did I tell you? 

Tuf. But if you are tired of them — 



58 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg. I was that twenty years ago. 

Cjes. Exactly. It's a habit that lias got to be a sec- 
ond nature : it has gone into his blood. 

Bkrg. That's so : it has. I have my easy-chair here, — • 
don't yon see? — my table there, the mantelpiece just be- 
yond, and my bed behind. Well, I get up; I go to my 
table, and get bored there ; then I come back, and am 
bored before the fireplace; and so on up and down, round, 
zigzag, iti every direction, until finally I go and bewail my 
wretched existence in bed. And it's a perfectly regular 
thing, — every day just the same. I've got broken to suffer- 
ing just so; and if I had to reverse my habits, and 
change my hours, and have to yawn here when I ought to 
be yawning there, — why, I should be on my. sick-bed in 
less than — 

Cjes. (aside). I've got jo\\ already: you won't give 
up your key. 

Berg. Why, just thinking of it (now, I give you my 
word), it's affected me already. I feel a kind of a — you 
know — all over. My nerves are in such a state, I really 
must take a little sedative ; and if you'll allow me (takes 
out little packet) — 

Cms. What's that ? 

Berg, (goes to fireplace, where there is an urn). It's 
camomile. 

CLes. Camomile? 

Berg. Yes: I always carry it about. 

Tuf. (shrugs shoulders). Good heavens ! 

Berg.* lean make it right here. (Sets about making 
his tea, and pays no further attention to what follows.) 

Tuf. (half aside to C^es.) About the exciting exist- 
ence of a — cockroach (sits near CLesar on sofa). 

* Caesar, Tufiier, Bergerin. 



A NERVOUS SET. 59 

CLes. The fruits of celibacy. Ah! it's not very gay; 
but a married life, now — 

Tuf. Yes : the gayety of that is worth talking about. 

CLes. A wife ! 

Tuf. Crazy ! 

CLes. A son ! 

Tuf. Mad! 

CLes. Oh! marry him: he'll calm down. 

Tuf. Marry him? — to Marion, I suppose. 

CLes. Why not ? She has every thing in her favor, — 
wit, beauty, and worth ; and as for her dowry — 

Tuf. (with contempt). The money-box ! 

CLes. Well, nobody knows what's in it, do they? 

Tuf. Why, no : that's true. 

CLes. Well, if I were in your place, I would find out 
at once by opening it on the sly; and I wouldn't say no 
decidedly to my son, unless the amount is — You under- 
stand? 

Tuf. Why, why, why ! now that is an idea. I'm cer- 
tainly very stupid {rises). 

Cms. That's so. 

Tuf. That's so (looks at box). We must see first 
whether — 

Berg, (examining tea). Oh ! it's too strong. 

Tuf. What is? 

Berg. The tea. 

Tuf. (provoked). Oh — 

C^es. Don't mind him; he's idiotic. So you mean to 
wait ? 

Tuf. Yes; and so must these dear children. They're 
in love, it seems. 

Ces. Blazing! 

Tuf. (sentimentally). Nothing will be so dear to me 
as their happiness, if the dowry is — 



60 A NERVOUS SET. 

CLes. Certainly. 

Tuf. But if, on the other hand, it isn't (changing 
tone) — then they may go to the devil, both of them. 

Cass. That's a truly paternal decision. 

Berg, (to himself). Now I've got too much water. 

Tuf. (turns round). What? 

CLes. He's got too ranch water. 

Tuf. {angrily). What's that to me? 

Berg. Oh! that's nothing: I'll put in some more 
camomile. 

Tuf. (aside). lie is insupportable. Well, we'll meet 
again — and not a word to my idiot of a wife: she'd 
make some absurd blunder. 

C^es. Agreed. 

Tuf. See you again soon. {Exit quickly.) 

CLes. {aside). You won't give up your key either. 
Dance away, my nervous puppets : I've just got hold of 
all your strings (approaches Bergerin). Well, Monsieur 
Bergerin, do you feel better? 

Berg. Yes, I am calmer already. Camomile is a 
sovereign remedy. 

Enter Louis. 

C^es. Indeed ! 

Berg. Just as I tell you {interrupted by a sob from, 
Louis, u7/o has taken seat near fireplace) {starts). Good 
God! what's that? 

Louis (sobbing). Marion loves me no more {falls into 
Bergerin's arms). 

Berg. Well, what of that? 

Cjes. Come, come ! 

Lou. (continually preventing Bergerin from drink- 
ing). Here's an hour I've been walking in the garden 
under her windows. I've called, screamed: not a word. 



A NERVOUS SET. 61 

I've thrown stones against the glass (sobs more violently) ; 
I've broken three panes. 

Berg, (frightened). Three panes! Are yon sure 
they were hers ? . 

Lou. Nothing would do : she didn't appear (sobs). 
She won't see me; she don't love me (falls into Cesar's 
arms). 

Berg, (aside). Oh! I can't see him cry that way 
(takes his cup, <&c). 

Lou. (strikes on table). But enough tears (changing 
tone). 

Berg. It's a pandemonium here! I'd rather go home, 
and drink there (runs out, carrying teapot). 

Lou. She's a coquette, — a girl without heart, without 
soul, without any thing. 

(Strikes table violently.) 

CLes. Without any thing? — you're blinded with rage. 

Lou. (not listening). My nerves are in such a state ! 

CLes. Drink some water. 

Lou. Yes, yes! (Seizes glass convulsively.) 

CLes. Don't eat the tumbler. 

Lou. Don't fear: I'm calm now. (Sets down glass, 
and breaks it.) 

CLes. Good ! 

Lou. Believe in the oaths of a woman ! This Marion 
who had sworn to me — ( Tioists a fork.) 

Cjes. (takes it from him). He's improving the silver. 

Lou. Frailty thy name is — (Breaks plate.) 

Cjes. Now, the plates. I wouldn't advise you to set 
up housekeeping. 

Lou. No danger : I shall die a bachelor, like that old 
idiot of a Bergerin, — faithless, perfidious — 

Cjes. Bergerin ? 



62 A NERVOUS SET. 

Lou. (shouts). Marion ! 

C^:s. She'll think you're calling her. 

Lou. She'll be mistaken. It's all over: I never want 
to see her again, or even to know her (jumps up). I'm 
going to write to her. 

Cjes. Louis, Louis! 

Lou. (rings furiously, and shouts). Placide, Placide ! 
pens, ink. Oh ! there they are (comes back to table). 

(Les. Come, come ; calm yourself. 

Lou. Oh ! I'm calm (kicks over chair / sits). Now let's 
write, "Mademoiselle" (stops) — no (tears the sheet, crum- 
ples it, and throios it aioay). " Ungrateful," — no, not that 
(crumples and throios away sheet as before). "Little 
monster!" — no, nor that either (same play) — no! a 
thousand times no! I won't write to her. (Scatters to 
the wind the rest of the quire.) 

(Les. Great Jove ! what a slaughter ! 

Lou. (striding about). I'll hunt down that Tiburce 
if he hides in the bowels of the earth. Tiburce that beast 
whom she prefers to me, — I'll find him; and we'll cut 
each other's throats. 

Plac. (enters). Lordy-massy ! * 

Lou. Go to the devil ! 

Plac. What would master say if he came home? 

Lou. What he chooses. Master be d — d ! I hate him 
too, like his daughter, his Marion, and you. I detest you 
all (falls on chair). O Marion, Marion ! 

Plac. (alarmed). He's going to faint. Water — quick! 
( Goes for the pitcher. ) 

Lou. (rising). The water; yes, the water: that's it. 
( To Placide.) Adieu ! Give her this last kiss. (Kisses 
her.) 

Plac. Halloo ! 

Lou. I'm about to throw myself into the river. (Exit.) 

Plac. Ah! great heavens! 



A NERVOUS SET. 63 

Enter Marion and Lucie. 

Mar. and Luc. What has happened ? 

Plac. Mr. Louis going to drownd hisself. 

Mar. Ah ! 

Luc. Heavens! {They stagger.) 

CLes. No, no! nobody's going to "drownd hisself." 

Mar. {.crying). Yes, yes: I'm sure of it. Ah! I feel 
I'm going off. 

Luc. So am I. {Each fcdls on chair.) 

CLes. {runs from one to the other). Marion, Lucie ! it's 
spreading fast. {Slaps Marion's hands, and kisses Lucie.) 

Tib. {enters toith bouquet). My lawyer won't be back 
till by and by, and, in the mean time — 

Plac* Ah ! you've come, have you ? Behold your 
work ! 

Tib. My work ! 

Lou. {comes back). I wasn't mistaken this time. I 
saw him come in, — yes. Ah! at last, I've got you. 

Tib. Sir! 

Lou. You've got to fight me. 

Tib. {alarmed)'. Not a bit of it. 

Lou. {shakes him). Ah, coward ! Ah, wretch ! 

CLes. {separating them). Here, here — 

Tib. {running round table). Help, help ! 

Lou. {after him). Just let me catch him. 

Tib. Watch ! Police ! Murder ! ( Gains door, and 
escapes : Louis after him, and Caesar after Louis.) 

CLes. Louis, Louis ! 

Plac. Miss Lucie ! Miss Marion ! Well, here's a tine 
kettle of fish ! 

* Marion, Placide, Tiburce, Caesar, Louis. 

End of Act II. 



64 A NERVOUS SET. 



ACT III. 



THE SAME SCENE. 



Furniture displaced ; the table in front, l. ; the sofa in 
front of fireplace ; a chair to right of table ; one behind 
sofa ; another in front, r. 

As curtain rises, Lucie sits, l., near table, smelling salts ; 
Placide stands at her side ; Marion, seated on sofa ; 
CLesar before her, against mantelpiece. 

CLes. {takes glass of eau-sucre from Marion). Well, 
feel a little better? 

Mar. Yes. 

Plac. (to Luc.) All over now ? 

Luc. All over. 

CLes. You can do it pretty well, too, when you set 
about it. 

Mar. (rising). You are sure he hasn't gone to throw 
himself in the water? 

Cjes. Perfectly. He may possibly have thrown Ti- 
burce in, however. 

Mar. (with feeling). Oh ! That I don't care for in the 
least. (Sits. Placide arranges things at back?) 

CLes. I say, you do love your Louis pretty well; don't 
you ? 

Mar. My Louis! He's not mine so much as that 
comes to. 

Luc. (goes to the piano to take her worsted-work). 



A NERVOUS SET. G5 

You needn't think I am going to many Monsieur Ti- 
burce. 

Mar. If you flatter yourself that I'll marry him any 
more than you — 

Plac. {goes to Mae.) Ah ! take care, ma'amselle : you 
know master's very obstinate when he takes any thing 
into his head. 

Mar. And what am I, I should like to know? In the 
first place, I've decided perfectly what I'll do if they 
undertake to force me to marry Monsieur Tiburce Ratis- 
son. 

Luc. {coming down icith embroidery}. How can any- 
body call themselves Ratisson ? 

Mar. I'll let them make all the preparations, and seem 
to have made up my mind to it. I'll be very sweet to 
Monsieur Tiburce ; and then, when monsieur the mayor 
says to me, with all his scarfs and things, " Ma'amselle 
Marion, do you take Monsieur Ratisson, here present, for 
your wedded husband ? I'll just say (courtesy), " No, sirP 
(They come forward.) 

CLes, There's for you ! 

Mar.* Well? 

(Les. You'll not have to take that trouble, I hope. 

Mar. You hope, you hope ? Besides, you promised to 
rid me of Monsieur Tiburce ; and I don't see that you do 
it a bit. 

CLes. Patience ! 

Luc. We want you to hurry up about it. 

Mar. And turn him out of doors right away. 

Luc. Or sooner. 

C-^ES.f Let's see — 



* Lucie, Marion, Cassar, Plaeide, at back. 
t Lucie, Caesar, Marion, Plaeide, at back. 
6* 



£6 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mar. (not listening). You came in like a man going 
to take command and run the whole machine. 

Luc. I shall do this, and I shall do that. 

Mar. And, after all, what have you done? 

Luc. Yes, let's hear : what have you done ? 

CLes. Well, I've breakfasted. 

Luc. That's something to be proud of. 

Cjes. (strikes on his breeches pocket). Well, I don't 
know about that. At any rate, you can be easy: whether 
he backs out or not, you sha'n't be his wife. I did mean 
to cure up all the nerves in the house; but now I've got 
another plan. I intend now, on the contrary, to aggravate 
them all to such a point that they'll all go crazy. 

Luc. Crazy! Well, what then ? 

CLes. Then we'll send them all to the asylum. That'll 
be a good way to get rid of them. 

(Placide goes up the stage.) 

Mar. (pouts). Oh ! you're always making fun. 

CLes. And you don't feel very funny, because Mr. 
Louis hasn't come back, — hey ? 

Mar. Well, yes, there! He is gone off angry, no 
doubt. 

CLes. Perhaps it's a little bit your fault too. 

Mar. (turns upon him). My fault! 

(Le.s. (recoils). Well, don't eat me; but it would appear 
that last night — 

Mar* I should like to see how you'd behave if you 
think it's amusing to wait for somebody a whole week, 
and then, when they come, and you feel happy, to be just 
reproached, and called names (nearly crying). Well, 
that's what I go through every day. 

* Lucie (seated), Cassar, Marion, Placide (seated on causeuse). 



A NERVOUS SET. 67 

CLes. You wait a week for him every clay ! Why 
poor thing, that's terrible ! 

Mar. No, no! What a tease he is! {Begins to laugh 
vihile crying, and hides he?* face on CLesar's shoulder), 

CLes. Aren't we a little nervous too ? {Strokes her hair.) 
There, there, little pussy-cat. 

Luc. How silly to give way like that ! 

Mar. I can't help it : it's too much for me — there ! 

Cjss. Let's see : do you know what you ought to do, 
Mariette, when he comes determined on a quarrel ? 

Mar. {raises head, and wipes her eyes). Yes, come : 
what should I do ? 

CLes. Just receive his ill-humor without doing him 
the honor to take the slightest notice of it; and in three 
lessons I'll promise it'll be a dead calm. 

Mar. Yes ; but suppose it's too calm. 

C^es. Well, I only tell you the best way, — the one I 
shall recommend to Lucie, if ever I take it into my head 
to be nervous and quarrelsome after she is my wife. 
( Crosses to Lucie, and is about to kiss her • Marion" 
stoops over to look ; Caesar stops.) Well ? 
Mar. All right ! I'll go along. 

{Goes up toward Placide.) 

CLes. {to Luc.) My little cousin will be my wife ; 
won't she? 

Luc. {playing with her work). Why — 
CLes. {kissing her forehead). Come, say it's a bargain, 
Mademoiselle Lucie, and you shall be happy : I'll swear 
it ! My dear little girl, I know I ought to have made 
more of a mystery and a ceremony of it; but after all 
you see, between relations — so I begin to love you first 
like a darling little sister, then like a charming little 
cousin, then as a lovely young girl; and now here I am 



63 A NERVOUS SET. 

beginning to love yon as the one whom I must make my 
wife. It has come on little by little, day by day, without 
my thinking of it. It's unromantic, every day, and vulgar, 
I know ; but there it is, it exists. So much so, that if 
you were to say, "I have reflected, cousin, and seriously 
decide that the answer must be no — well, then {affected) 
— absurd for a man to cry — but there it is. 

Luc. {quickly). But it's yes, it's yes! 

CLes. {wipes a tear) . Well, no matter : it must come 
out. (Changing tone.) It's all that little girl's fault with 
her nerves. 

Mar. I ! 

Plac. Oh, yes! ma'amselle you're nervous decidedly. 

C-es. (laughs). It's catching beyond a doubt. Come, 
my little dears, we must come to an understanding.* 

Luc. and Mar. Yes ! 

C^es. Papa'll be back soon : he's gone after the myrmi- 
dons of law to arrest me. 

Luc. and Mar. Oh ! Good Heavens ! 

C-es. But I defy them. As for you — whatever hap- 
pens, and even during my punishment, be sweet, obedient, 
and affectionate, and consent to every thing. 

Mar. Even to marry Tiburce ? 

Ces. Yes, both of you : until I turn him out. But 
Uncle Marteau aught to be back by this time: the police- 
station isn't so far. 

Plac. Ah ! true, you don't know. I forgot to tell 
you. 

Oes. Well, tell us ! 

Plac I heard it from M. Turner's housekeeper, — her 
master Monsieur Marteau and Monsieur Bergerin received 
a notification two hours ago from their man of business. 

* Placide, Lucie. Caesar, Marion. 



A NERVOUS SET. 69 

— you know the one who had charge of that legacy 
affair. 

CLes. Yes, I know. 

Plac. Well, he notified them that the money was at 
their disposition, and they had only to call at his office to 
get it. 

CLes. {rising). Somehow people don't write me such 
letters. 

Plac. The fact is, some folks have the devil's own 
lack. ( Walks up stage.) 

CLes. They'll come back here all three, pockets all 
stuffed out with bankbills. If that would only calm their 
nerves. But no — I forgot: that wouldn't do us any 
good ; for I stick to my idea of driving them all mad. 

Luc. (looks out of window). Caesar, I see papa: he's 
coming this way. 

CLes. Good ! we must dissemble. Behold the tyrant ! 
(Sits, l., and pretends to read paper.) 

Enter Marteatj. 

Mart. ' (without seeing them). What'll you have? 
(Puts hat on chiffonier ; hat falls ; he picks it up.) 
What'll you have? (/Sa?ne play : kicks away hat, and 
}nits down ca?ie so that it falls and rolls. Furious.') 
Every thing is destroyed now, no more law, no more 
justice. (Placide picks up hat ; Mariox, cane ; and exit 
Plactde with both.) Here's a commissary, a magistrate 
whose mission it is to enforce respect for property, and 
to protect families ; and, when I talk to him of arrest- 
ing this rascal who breaks into my house like a burglar, 
answers me, "0 Monsieur Marteau ! think better of it — 
Your own nephew — we can't undertake to interfere in 
these matters." Then in what matters do you interfere^ 
pusillanimous and shuffling magistrate ? when do you inter- 



70 A NERVOUS SET. 

fere ? ( Turns, and sees Caesar holding newspaper before 
his face, and chatting ivith the girls.) Oh ! He's there 
still. {Advances slowly towards Cesar, dumb show and 
by-play of Marion" and Lucie, who see him coming : he 
slowly pulls down paper.) 

Cjbs. Coop — -found him now! (Marion and Lucie 
run back.) 

Mart. So you've installed yourself and taken pos- 
session of my house in spite of me : you've breakfasted 
here, you'll dine and doubtless sleep here too. 

CLes. I shall sleep here certainly, uncle, so as to be 
able to attend you in the night, you know — a crisis might 
come on. (Hises.) 

Mart * And you propose to continue this ? 

CLes. Until you have recovered, and are prudent and 
calm as a father of a family should be, and ready to 
listen to my advice. 

Mart. Which is ? 

CLes. You know well enough, to put an end to Ti- 
burce's matrimonial pretensions. 

Mart. Oh! perfectly. 

CLes. And to bestow Marion's hand on my friend 
Louis. 

Mart. Because ? 

C^es. Because they love each other. 

Mart. A fine reason certainly. 

Mar. {coming down). But, papa, it seems to me — 

Mart. What do you say, miss ? — it seems to you ? 

Cjes. Why, yes, certainly : it seems to her that that 
would be more logical than to give her to another on the 
pretext that they don't love each other. 

Mart. And what a choice! — an assassin who kills 
everybody. 

* Caesar, Marteau, Marion, Lucie, on causeuse. 



A NERVOUS SET. 71 

Mae. But, papa, since they don't die of it — 

Luc. Since they don't die of it — 

Mart. A debauchee, who spends all he's got. 

CLes. Oh, get out! He hasn't even got what he 
spends. 

Mart. A perfect fire-eater; fizzing off all the time, 
and who puts my nerves into a state — 

CLes. Well, what's the objection if he does ? 

Mart. What's the objection ! 

CLes. He isn't going to marry you. 

Mart.* That would be the last touch. No, he's not 
going to marry me; but, if I want to see Marion, I shall 
have to see him too, and I should be in a continual 
irritation. 

CLes. That don't affect Marion : what the devil! One 
doesn't consult his nerves on a question of son-in-law, 
like the barometer on a question of umbrella. 

Mart. Enough, incendiary. You would incite my 
daughters to rebel, would you? and to despise my author- 
ity. But you'll not succeed : they'll obey their father ; for 
they've been well brought up. (Marion and Lucie go 
up and turn their backs.) Won't you, Marion, obey your 
papa Marteau ? 

Mar. Why, yes ; that is, if — 

CLes. If you order her to marry her lover. 

Mart.| Never ! 

C^s. Oh ! come, uncle, now for a good impulse. Say 
yes, and put into Mariette's money-box that great fat 
pocket-book that ruins the set of your coat. {Touches his 
pocket.) 

Mart. Hey — what ? 

CLes4 Certainly, that great lump : it's awfully ugly. 

* Caesar, Marteau, Marion (seated on causeuse), Lucie (standing). 
f Caesar, Lucie, Marion, at back; Marteau. 
X Lucie, Marion, at back ; Marteau, Caesar. 



72 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart. So, you are spying, and meddling with my 
affairs, are you ? 

CLes. Why, it's no secret. 

Mart. And you presume to dispose of my property 
in that way? 

CLss. Good God ! No. Keep your property, and 
give us our lovers. 

Luc. and Mar. Yes, yes ! 

Mart. This devil of a Louis. ( 'Violent ring ; jumping 
up.) There ! I've no need of asking who rung then. 

Mar. Nor I, — it's he {joyfully). 

Mart. And I am to introduce into my family a fellow 
who announces himself in that way, — never! It's a ques- 
tion of life or death for me. {Another ring.) Why, the 
madman would shatter me, like a pane of glass. 

C^es. For all that, he must marry Marion. 

Mart.* For all that, Marion shall marry Tiburce ; 
and here on the spot, now. The lawyer is coming, and 
the other gentlemen; and we shall open the box, and — 
I'm going to get my key — Pirate ! 

Cjes. Go, and get it, corsair! (Marteau enters his 
room / Louis appears, bell-pull in hand, icith melancholy 
air.) 

Mar. {aside). Here he is. 

C^es. (taking bell-pull) . You pursue, then, your devas- 
tating track. 

Lou. (calm). I don't know how that happened: I 
hardly rang. ( Goes to sit down, l.) 

C^es. Yes, so it seems. 

Mar. (to Cjes.)! How strange he appears ! 

Luc. How calm he is! 

Mar. He must be ill. 

* Marteau, Csesar, Marion, at door at back; Lucie. 
* | Louis, Marion, Csesar, Lucie. 



A NERVOUS SET. 73 

Cjes. {laughs). It's the prostration which always fol- 
lows a great crisis ; the opposite extreme which nervous 
people always undergo. {To Lucie.) By George! I never 
thought of that. 

Lou. {rising). Miss Lucie, Miss Marion, I have come 
to ask your pardon, most humbly for the scandalous scene 
which I just now — 

Mar. Oh ! there's no harm done. 

Lou. Yes, yes ! I was wrong, and I have acknowledged 
it even before Monsieur Tiburce. 

Luc. Bah ! 

Lou. My mother explained to me, that — 

CLes. Oli ! Mother Tuffier is going to set it straight : 
we're all right now. ( Goes up.) 

Lou. After all, Monsieur Tiburce only demands his 
rights, since he has your father's consent, and perhaps 
yours. 

Mar. Mine ! 

Luc. (to Cjes.) What does he say ? 

Lou. I have come therefore to bid you farewell for- 
ever. ( Goes for his hat on table.) 

Mar. {taking away hat, so that he canHt get it). 
What! 

Cjes. {seated on sofa). Good, now! what did I tell 
you ? 

Mar. {to Lou.) Monsieur Tiburce has my consent, 
did you say? 

Lou. {mournfully). Oh! I don't blame you, Marion. 

Mar. But — 

Lou. {not listening). You are not your own mistress. 

Mar. I — 

Lou. You don't belong to yourself, under the circum- 
stances. 

Mar. Why, I tell you again — 
7 



74 A NERVOUS SET. 

Lou. And then this man, if lie has won your affec- 
tion — 

Luc. and Mak. But — 

Lou. I must respect him; for he can be no ordinary 
character who has gained Marion's love. 

Mar. But don't I tell you — 

Lou. (turning towards her). You would, perhaps, do 
violence to your feelings. 

Mar. But I tell you again — 

Lou. There is no necessity. Should you return to 
me, it would doubtless be through compassion. 

Mar. Eh ! 

Lou. And my heart demands no charity. I desire not 
your pity. 

Mar. (provoked). Well, now look here — 

Lou. Oh ! At least, Marion, you should not abuse me. 
Spare me your bitter words. 

Mar. Mine ! 

Lou. Since I do justice upon myself in withdrawing 
— since I restore you your liberty. 

Mar. (excited). I can't help it; I'm going off. Now 
for this one last time — 

Lou. (extends hand, without looking at her). Yes: 
give me your hand, Marion, for the last time. 

Mar. My hand ! 

Lou. The hand to which I had the audacity to 
aspire. 

Mar. Oh, my nerves ! my nerves ! 

Lou. Let me carry away,- at least, this memory in my 
wretched exile. (Throws himself in Caesar's arms.) 

Mar. (bursts out in nervous paroxysm, and beats him 
with all her might). There ! if you want my hand, there 
it is for you. 

Lou. Why, what's got into her? (Runs away, Marion 
after him, striking.) 



A NERVOUS SET. 75 

Mar. Stop! There's for your eternal farewell, and 
that for your Tiburoe, and that for your compassion and 
your charity and your magnanimity. {Falls exhausted on 
seat.) There, that's done me good ! * 

Cjs3. {laughs). Well, you deserve it. 

Lou. {throws himself at Marion's knees.) f Great God, 
then, you love me still ! 

Mar. (raising her hand). Have you any more 
doubts ? 

Lou. {raising hands to parry). No more, no more. 

Mar. {falling back, seated). Oh, so much the better: 
I'm rather fatigued. 

Cjes. Oh, there's no doubt about it ! There should 
be a water-cure here, and cold douches always ready. 

Lou. (rising). Well, Mr. Tiburce — well, idiot, — she 
don't love you; and, what's more, she can't abide you, 
you brute : so there's your little account settled. 

Cms. {laughs). He's coming to himself again. 

Lou. {To Mar.) If he doesn't renounce all pre- 
tensions to marrying you, I'll strangle him. 

CLes. All right {picks up bell-pull) ; and here's just 
what you'll need to do it with. 

• Lou. {puts it in his pocket without noticing it). Thank 
you ! I shall wait a few minutes. I want to see how it is ; 
I shall be perfectly calm. 

CLes.| Ah! I always rely upon you for that. 

Lou. But when the whole affair is arranged, and he 
has accepted — 

C^es. {makes gesture of strangling). Couic ! that's 
understood. But hush ! here's the victim! 

Mar. {rising). My father ! 

* Louis, Marion, Caesar, Lueie. 
| Marion, Loais, Caesar, Lucie. 
X Marion seated, Louis, Caesar, Lucie. 



76 A NERVOUS SET. 

Luc. (looks out of window). And the other gentle- 
men? 

Cjes. Run away, my little kittens, and rely on me : 
I'll watch over your happiness. 

Mar. Thank you ! 

Lou. And you really love me ? 

Mar. Again? Take that! (Boxes his ears, and runs 
off with Lucie, in her room.) 

Lou. Oh, how happy I am ! 

CLes. The matter's settled now, you know. (JIahes 
sign of fighting.) 

Lou. Oh, that's all one to me ! 

CLes. I'm sure it is to me (seeing the others). Here 
they are. Lovers, stand to your guns. (Bergerix and 
Tuffier enter at bach ; Marteau, from his chamber.) 

Berg, (to Mart, with satisfaction.) I say, you've got 
yours; haven't you? ( 'Shows pocket-booh.') 

Mart.* (loith ill humor). Yes, yes, but — 

Tuf. So have we (slaps pochet-booh in his pochet, 
and rubs his hands). After to-morrow, some nice little 
investment — 

Berg. I know one at ten per cent. 

Mart. But, Good Heavens! that's not our business 
now, but the other. The lawyer is here; he's drawing 
the contract, and — (Loohs round.) Well, where the 
devil is Tiburce ? 

Tib. (who has been a minute on threshold, hesitating to 
enter). Here I am ! here I am ! 

Mart. Ab ! ( To Tuffier and Bergerin.) You've 
got your keys ? 

Tuf. (hesitates). I believe so. 

Berg. Mine should be in my vest-pocket. 

Mart. All right. Now sit down, everybody. 

* Marteau. Bergerin, Tuffier, Caesar, Louis at fireplace. 



A NERVOUS SET. 77 

Tib. (aside). I don't like the little fire-eater being 
h re. Still, if he was sincere just now — 

Mart, (to Tib.)* Well, it's for you to speak. 

Tib. Monsieur, after having conferred with my law- 
yer — 

Mart. Ah ! come to the point. 

Tib. Decided by his advice — 

Mart, (rising). You don't marry. 

Tib. prising). I do marry. (Louis starts. Cesar holds 
him.) 

Mart. You do marry, without seeing? 

Tib. Eyes shut. 

All (surprised). Ah ! 

Mart, (rising). Good! You're less mean than I sup- 
posed. Give us your hand ; and since you've passed your 
word, and the affair is'settled, we will open at once, and 
sign the contract afterwards, without adjournment {turn- 
ing to CjESAr), iu order to spite this gentleman. 

Class. Oh, pshaw ! I'll bet you don't open ! 

Mart. Really — well — you'll see in a minute. Your 
keys, gentlemen. 

Berg. In a moment. (Feels in his pocket.) 

CLes. (aside to Tuf.) Think of your son. 

Tuf. (aside to Cass.) I do. 

Lou. (hardly able to contain himself, to Cjes.) ,.Biit 1 
don't intend to allow — 

Cj3S. Wait a minute. 

Mart, (very nervous). Well — The keys, the keys! 

Tuf. (standing). Keys, keys! Seem* to me you're 
in a great hurry. In the first place, are we going to open 
in public, this way, — before everybody? 

Mart. Well ? * 

'■• Bergerin and Marteau (seated), Tuffier (on causeuse), Tiburce (in front), 
Caesar (standing at fireplace), Louis (r. on arm-chair.) 

•7* 



78 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg. Why not? 

Tuf. I think it's ridiculous, for my part. We ought to 
do it in private, — we three. 
' Cjes. {aside). Good! 

Mart. What idea has he got in his head now? 

Tuf. In that way, at least, we should see — we should 
know — 

Mart. We should see — we should know — Well, 
isn't it just in order to see that — 

Tuf. No ; but really, I think you are going too fast. 
You don't seem to have the real paternal feelings. 

Mart. I ! — not the real paternal feelings ! 

Tuf. Why, no ! You don't seem to suspect the real 
value of your little Marion ; you just throw her into what's- 
his-name's face, as if he were the only one in the world 
who would take her : but there are others besides him. 

Lou. {over Tib's shoulder). Yes, there's I in the first 
place. (Caesar holds him back.) 

Tib. (turning round to Lou.) Ah, bah ! You again ! 

Tuf. (to his son). Who's talking to you ? Hold your 
tongue ! 

Mart. Well, will you give your key ? — yes, or no? 

Tuf. Well, no: I won't give it. There ! 

CLes. (aside to Tuf.) Well done ! 

Mart. I say, do you want me to tell you what you are 
after now? Well, it's your boy you're manoeuvring for. 

Tuf. I ! — did I say the first word about my boy ? 

Lou. No ; and that's just where you missed it. 

Tuf. (loio). Will you hold your tongue ? 

Lou. No, : I won't hold my tongue. 

Tib. (to Lou.) But what you told me just now — 

Lou. It was just to humbug you. 

Tib. (rising). Sir! (Crosses, r.) 

Lou. (to his father).* Why can't you do something 

* Borgerin, Marteau, Tuffier, Louis, Caesar, Tiburce. 



A NERVOUS SET. i\) 

forme? I'm your son certainly: you wouldn't cast me 
off— 

Tuf. (low). Have you got through, idiot ? 
Lou. No, I haven't got through. I have no idea of 
being cast off. ( To Marteau.) Well, yes, there — I don't 
care — it is for me that he is trying to manoeuvre. 
Tuf. But it's not true, you good-for-nothing rascal. 

Lou. Yes ! 

Tuf. No! 

Lou. Yes ! 

Tuf. Oil! that's the way, is it? (Furious, throws 
Louis on sofa). Well, then, there's your key, take it. 
Who wants your Marion!* (Crosses, and puts key on 
table, then goes up.) 

(Les. (to Lou.) You caught it that time. 

Mart, (takes key). At last: that makes one. 

Cms. (aside). Yes; but there's two more needed. 

Tib. Well, now things seem to be going a n right. 

Cms. I should think so. 

Mart, (sneers). I should say so, certainly. Bergerin, 
your key. 

Berg. (who had remained seated) . Have they finished 
squabbling? 

Mart. Yes. 

Berg. Then I may be allowed — 

Mart, (shakes htm). Your key. 

Berg. There, there! Wait one minute. (Feels in 
pockets.) 

Cms. (aside). At least. (Aloud.) Oh ! by the way, 
Tiburce, you know my uncle Avon't hear of Marion's liv- 
ing anywhere but here. 

Tib. Oh ! I'll live just where they please. 

* Marteau, Bergerin, Tiburce, Tuffier, Louis, Caesar. 



80 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart, (to CLes.) What business is that of yours? 

CLes. You will have to take rooms in the house. 

Mart. Will you just let us alone if you please? 

CLes. Bergerin's, I suppose. 

Berg, (jumps up). What! my apartment ? 

C^es. In the first place, there are no others. 

Lou. It's the only one. 

Mart, (threatening CLes.) Pirate ! 

Berg, (very agitated). What! take away my second 
floor, and give it to him — my apartment ! 

Mart. Well, what then ? It would break no bones. 

Beug. The rooms I've lived in for twenty years ? — and 
restored ceilings, floors, and cupboards ! 

Mart. Why, where would you have me put the 
poor children ? 

Berg. Put 'em down cellar if you choose. I'm satis- 
fied where I am, and mean to stay. 

Mart, (getting excited). You mean to stay? — you 
mean to stay if I choose to let you ; and there's no 
necessity of shouting about it, either. 

Berg. You'll actually have the face to warn me out? 

Mart. Oh, yes! and have the notice served by a 
constable too. 

Berg. Oh ! that's the style, is it ? Very good. Give 
me notice, and I don't give up my key. (Pats it back in 
pocket?) 

Tib. Good! There we are again. 

Mart. Did one ever see ? 

Tib. Come, come, Monsieur Bergerin. 

Cjes. Yes, Monsieur Bsrgerin, one must be just too. 

Berg. Just, just! Well, you are charming.* 



* Bergerin, Marteau (higher up), Caesar, Tuffier (farther up), Tiburce, Louis 
on causeuse. 



A NERVOUS SET. 81 

CLes. Oh ! I'm perfectly aware that a change in habits 
and mode of life at your age is often dangerous. 

Berg. I should think it was indeed dangerous. 

Lou. It's fatal ! 

Berg. Fatal! He's said it : that's the word. 

Mart. Oi! go on. Blo.v the fire, you filibuster ! 

CLes. Still, think of these poor young people. 

Berg. Let them go to the devil ! Not a key do I 
give up without my apartment. (Rises', and crosses to 
extreme l.) 

Mart. Well, there ! I'll leave you your apartment : 
there now ! 

CLes. (aside). Murder ! 

Lou. Oh ! d — a it ! 

Berg. Oh, yes! — you'd like to extract my key, and 
then have your notice served to-morrow. 

Cjes. Just so. 

Mart, (after threatening gesture to CLes.*) I tell you 
it's yours, fiicre bleu! what more do you want? — a 
lease ? 

Berg. Yes ; for fifty years. 

Mart. A hundred, if you say so. 

Berg. You'll have my chimneys repaired ? 

Mart. Yes. 

Berg. And paint the landing green ? 

Mart. Yes; and you too. Any thing else ? 

Berg. You give me your word before witnesses? 

Mart. Yes. 

Berg. At that price, I'll give up the key. 

Tib. At last ! 

Mart. Oufl 

Berg, (feels in pockets). Well, now: where have I 
stuck it ? 

* Bergerin, Tuffier (farther ap), Marteau, Caesar, Louis, Tiburce. 



82 A NERVOUS SET. 

Cms. {aside 'to Tup.) I say, you're the one to be 
turned out, then. 

Tuf. Why, that's a fact ! ( To Marteau.) I say, 
am I the one you propose to turn out, then ? * 

Mart. Come ! here's the other, now. Who's put that 
in your head ? 

Tuf. Why — ( Points to CLesar.) 

Mart. That serpent ! — if you listen to him — 

Tuf. (insisti?ig) . But still — 

Mart. Well, then, I won't turn out anybody : there ! 

All. Ah ! 

Mart. Ah ! And I give the young people the pavilion 
with the vegetable-garden. Ah ! 

Tuf. That means you let it to them. 

Mart. I don't let them any thing at all. I give it to 
them. 

Tuf. How ? 

Mart. By deed. 

TiB.f Ah, monsieur ! 

Tuf. And the vegetable-garden too? 

Mart. Yes. 

Tuf. {to Lou.) There, you naughty boy ! — see what 
you've lost. 

Lou. It was your fault. 

Cms. Thunder ! A two-story pavilion, and the vegeta- 
ble-garden, and the money-box — there's a dowry for you. 

Tuf. I should think it was. 

Mart. Are we going to get through to-day ? 
'Tib. Shall we proceed? 

Tuf. {stopping). Let's see, let's see. Don't let us do 
things blindfold, eh ! — and let's endeavor not to be ner- 
vous. 



* Bergerin, Marteau, Tuffier, Tiburce, Louis on causeuse, Csesar. 
f Bergerin, Marteau, Tiburce, Tuffier, Louis, Caesar. 



A NERVOUS SET. 83 

Mart. But it's you — 

Tuf.* Oh ! it's I, it's I ! You take these absurd fan- 
cies to people, and then away you go. 

Mart. Well. 

Tuf. Well — I don't know. But this fellow, — there's 
something underhanded about him. 

Tib. What? 

Mart. How ? 

Tuf. It isn't all on the square. 

Lou. Very far from it. 

Tuf. There's some speculation about it, I want you to 
understand. (Moves Tiburce away.) 

Berg, {pulls Mart, by sleeve). I say — 

Tuf. He knows there's a money-box — good. And 
then he gets the lodgings. 

CLes. And then there's the pavilion. 

Lou. And then the vegetable-garden. - 

Tib. (to Mart.) Shall we proceed ? 

Berg, {to Mart v ) I've thought of something. 

Tuf. (to Lou. and CLes.) Why, he gets every thing; 
don't you see, he gets every thing. 

Lou. At one fell swoop, 

CLes. Exactly. 

Tuf. It's ignoble ! 

Lou. Shameful ! 

C^s. Immoral I 

Tuf. (turning to Mart.) Immoral ! 

Berg, (to Mart.) Suppose we make out the lease 
right away ? 

Tuf. And then all the expectations, and a pretty girl 
thrown into the bargain — By Jove! I should think he 
would marry. 

* Bergerin, Marteau, Tiburce, Tuffier, Louis, Caesar. 



84 A NERVOUS SET. 

Berg, (to Mart.) Shall we draw up the lease at once ? 
what do you say ? 

Tib. (to Mart.) Shall we proceed ? 

Tuf. It's a mere speculation. He doesn't love the 
little darling. 

(Les. and Lou. He never loved her. 

Tuf. And should I suffer her to be thus sacrificed ? 

Lou. and (Les. No ! 

Tuf. No ! 

Mart, (bewildered). There! it begins again. (Goes 
up.) 

Berg, (to Tuf.) I say — you're not serious though, 
eh? 

Tuf. (crosses, and takes hey from table). What's the 
reason I'm not serious ? I'm so serious that I do not ac- 
cept the candidate : my moral sense forbids. 

Mart* Well, but the key? Do you mean that you'll 
have the face — 

Tuf. (puts it in his pocket). To keep it? I rather 
think so. 

Mart. Yes? That is your final decision ?— you won't 
give it up of your own accord ? Very well : then w T e'll 
force you to. 

Tuf. We'll see about that. 

Mart. Certainly ; for we shall have a majority. 
Quick, give me yours, Bergerin, so that we can have a 
niMJority. 

Berg, (pen and paper in hand). Yes, yes: I'll give 
it to you, — only suppose we sign the lea^e at once. 

Mart, (exasperated). But, great Jupiter, man ! since 
you have my word, my word, my word — 

CLes.| Since Tiburce has the pavilion. 

* Bergerin, Tuffier (farther up), Caesar (at back). Marteau, Tiburce, Louis, 
f Caesar, Bergenia, Marteau, Tiburce, Tuffier (farther up), Louis. 



A NERVOUS SET. 85 

Berg, {irresolute). Yes. 

Tib. Certainly. 

Cjes. And the vegetable-garden. 

Berg. Yes. . 

Tib. Of course. 

CiES. {aside to Berg.) The vegetable-garden, where 
their children will howl all day long. 

Berg, (draws back hey). Their children ? 

CiES. (aloud). For after all it's to be hoped there'll be 
a family. 

Tib. (smiling). I should rather think there will. 

Berg, (frightened). They mean to have children? 

Mart, (takes his head in his hands). Here it comes 
again. 

Tuf.* And your windows that open on the garden — 

C^es. And on the pavilion — 

Tuf. They'll play all day — 

C^es. And squall all night. 

Tuf. It will be perfectly charming! 

Cjes. All this rabble of brats. 

Lou. Little Tiburces. 

C^es. Who will all smell of vanilla. 

Berg, (horrified). No, no : I tell you no ! It would 
only need that to drive me mad. I tell you I won't have 
their children : let 'em go and breed somewhere else. I 
won't give up my key. ( Goes up.) 

Tuf., Lou., and C^es. Bravo, Bergerin ! 

C-.es. We've settled the majority. 

Mart. Oh ! I'm going mad ; my head splits ; I shall 
explode shortly, like a shell! t (Sits l., in place of Ber- 
gerin.) 



* Caesar, Tuffier, Bergerin, Marteau, Tiburce, Louis, 
t Caesar, Marteau, Tuffier, Bergerin, Tiburce, Louis. 



86 A NERVOUS SET. 

Tib. (supplicating). O Monsieur Bergerin ! 

Berg. Will you just clear out, and carry your babies 
along. 

Mart, (rising). Ah! that's the tone to be taken, is it? 
Well, then, no; he sha'n't go, and he shall marry in spite 
of all the devils, in spite of you, and in spite of this villain 
who has brought it all about. He shall marry in spite of 
the men, in spite of the women, and in spite of himself. 
Sit down there! (Takes Tiburce by collar, and forces 
him down in chair.) 

Tib. (exhausted, aside). I begin to have had about 
enough of getting married. 

Mart, (takes table and puts it in centre, knocking aside 
the other furniture). And now for the notary, — quick! 
Placid e, Placide, bring on your notary. 

Notary (appears). I think you called me. 

Mart. Yes. (Drags him to table.) Sit there. ( To 
the others.) I shall do without you and your keys. 
(Forces Notary to sit.) 

Berg, and Tuf.* How will you ? 

Mart. You are about to see. ( Grasps convulsively 
the Notary's papers.) Now write there, Notary, in con- 
tinuation, " brings as dowry a pavilion, a vegetable-gar- 
den." 

Not. (writing). A vegetable-garden — 

Mart, (dictating). And, moreover, an iron chest with 
a cover like that of a money-box ; as to the contents of 
which, being invited to specify — (To the others.) 
I've, been lawyer's clerk in my time. (Notary rises 
to congratulate ; Marteau forces him to sit, and re- 
sumes dictation faster than ever.) Invited to specify, 



* Csesar and Louis (near piano), Tiburce (seated), Marteau (standing), the 
Notary (seated), Bergerin (on causeuse),Tuffier (seated at exti-eme right). 



A NERVOUS SET. 87 

the said Marteau declares it to be needless, and that he 
transfers to the intended bride the full title to said chest, 
with all that it may contain, whether in specie, bills, prom- 
issory notes, mortgages on real estate, jewels, and all 
other property of whatever name and nature. ( The No- 
tary, alarmed at the rapidity of dictation, reaches out 
for ink. Marteau catches his hand, and puts it back on 
the paper, continuing with redoubled speed.} The 
chest aforesaid, being hermetically closed by three locks 
to be delivered in this condition to the betrothed pair, 
and after the celebration of the marriage to be by them 
opened — 

Tuf. and Berg. Opened ? 

Berg. How ? 

Mart, {with majesty). In whatever manner they may 
see fit. 

Berg. That is, broken open. 

Mart. Broken ! By them, if they please : I wash my 
hands of it. I have the chest, and I give it (to the 
Notary) : is not that correct ? 

Tuf. But you've no right to. {Rises, takes his chair, 
and plants himself at table, back to audience.) But, sir, 
he has no right to. 

Not. (to Mart.)* Indeed. 

Mart. Well, I'll take the right. 

Not. (to Tuf.) Ah ! if he takes it — {During the 
whole of this scene, the Notary, who occasionally dis- 
appears in the excited group of the three men, is occupied 
in avoiding accidents from their violent action.) 

Berg. (£oNot.) He undertakes to make over by deed 
what belongs to us. 

Not. {to Mart.) Ah ! that's not legal. 

* Tiburce (seated), Notary (beyond table), Tuffier (seated before table), 
Bergerin (standing at right), Caesar and Louis (standing at fireplace). 



88 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart. I make over by deed what belongs to me. 

Not. That's another case. 

Tuf. It belongs to us three. 

Berg. To us three. 

Not. (to Mart.) Joint property, then : they are right. 

Mart. It belongs to ine, to me ! Here it is in my 
house, and bought eighteen years ago with my dollars ; 
and I can show the receipt. 

Not. (pulled about on all sides, to the others). In- 
dividual property, then : he's in the right. 

Tuf. (growing warm). Bought on joint account. 

Berg. On joint account. 

Not. (to Mart.) Partnership property, then : you're 
in the wrong. 

Tuf. and Berg, (triumphing). Of course. (Tuffier 
crosses, r.) 

Mart, (takes Tuf's chair, and plants himself to 
the left of Not.) But he don't understand any thing 
about it. There's been no contract of partnership. 

Not. (to the others). There's been no act of partner- 
ship. Then, what do you claim ? 

Tuf. (springs towards him angrily). What's that ? 
what do we claim ? 

Not. (frightened). Excuse me. 

Tuf. (furious). There's no need of an act of partner- 
ship ? 

Not. (frightened). Certainly — 

Berg. A verbal agreement before witnesses is suffi- 
cient. (Strikes on table, and passes, l.) 

Not. Of course. 

Mart, (strikes on table). And I tell you it's insuffi- 
cient. 

Not. Sometimes. 

Mart, (shouts). Always! 



A NERVOUS SET. 



89 



Not. {trembling). Always! 

Tuf. (threatening). Never! 

Not. Never. 

Berg, (rejoicing, and striking on table). It's a partner- 
ship then, it's a firm. ( Grosses, r.) 

Not. That's true. 

Mart. I deny it. 

Not. (losing his head). You do right. 

Berg, and Tuf. (upon the Not.) We maintain our 
assertion. 

Not. (shouts). You are right ! 

Berg. Who's right ? 

Not. Oh the devil! (Succeeds in getting loose, all 
rumpled and torn.) 

Mart, (rising). The course is perfectly simple : we 
will go to law about it. 

Tuf. (frightened). Eh!* 

Tib. A lawsuit now, for variety. 

C^s. (aside). All goes on famously. 

Mart. And, if I should spend my last dollar in it, I'll 
drag you from "court to court. I'll have the very ablest 
lawyer, — one that can muddle things up, and make it 
last three years. 

Tuf. Three years ! 

Mart. And, during all that time, we shall never leave 
the Court House : we shall breakfast, dine, and sleep 
there. 

Tuf. And my life will bothered out of me ! 

Mart. And your life will be bothered out of you. 
Tuf. And I shall dream of black gowns and square 
caps! No, no: go to the devil! (throwing down key), 



* Tiburce, seated; Notary, at back; Marteau, Tuffier, Bergerin, Louis, and 
Caesar, at back. 

8* 



90 A NERVOUS SET. 

and fight it out batween you. I'll have no more to do 
with it. 

Berg, (sitting in centre; gayly). I don't give in, — 
devil a bit of it. A lawsuit will be quite an interesting 
distraction for me. 

Mart* Oh, yes ! But it will be in all the papers. 
They'll publish our private life down to the smallest 
details: so, for instance, everybody will known that Mon- 
sieur Bergerin is an old bachelor who has collected 
thirty-six watches and eighty snuff-boxes. 

Berg, (gayly). All right ! 

MART.f And one of these days there will appear in 
the police-reports: "A fearful crime has just spread con- 
sternation through Batignolles" — 

Berg. Eh! 

Mart, (continuing'). "Incited by cupidity, malefactors 
introduced themselves, last night, into the sumptuous 
suite of apartments inhabited alone by the rich Monsieur 
Bergerin " — 

Berg, (frightened). Into my rooms ! 

Mart, (continuing). And this morning, Madame 
Placide, arriving to give her accustomed care to the 
establishment, discovered the unfortunate proprietor 
hanged to his bedpost. 

Berg, (horrified). Hanged! 

Mart. Hanged ! 

Tuf. Hanged! 

Tib. Hanged ! 

Berg, (screams). Will you hold your tongues, and not 
repeat such horrors ! Ah ! I'm all in a cold sweat. 
Hanged ! Here you may just go to the devil, the whole 

* Tiburce, Xotary, at back; Marteau, Bergerin, Caesar, Louis, Tuffier. 
t Notary, at back; Tiburce, Bergerin, Marteau, Caesar, Louis, at back; Tuf- 
fier. 



A NERVOUS SET. 91 

lot of yon, — dowry, money-box, sons-in-law, and the 
whole shop. Hanged to the bedpost ! Just take your 
old key, and rid me of it ; only don't talk to me any more 
about any thing, — lawsuit, thieves, or marriage ; for I feel 
I'm just going crazy (throws down key), — just going 
crazy. ( Goes after the Notary.) 

Tib. (who for some time has had movements indicating 
a nervous crisis). (Aside.) So ami, so am I! 

Mart, (triumphing). At last. 

Lou. (to Cms.) What shall we do ? 

Mart, (brandishing keys). Victory! The victory is 
ours. Come, son-in-law. 

Tib. (with nervous movements which he cannot repress). 
(Rising.)* Your son-in-law. Excuse me, Monsieur Mar- 
teau : you are very good, and I respect you infinitely. 

Mart. What is he making up faces at now? 

Tib. Certainly : I should be immensely flattered — ■ but 
there — frankly — 

Mart. Well ! 

Tib. Well — ( The attack increases.) No : you see, I 
never could get used to leading such an existence of the 
devil in a holy-water pot. 

Lou. (aside). What's that he says ? 

Mart. What's that, — stuff? 

Tib. (with convulsive motions, and screaming). Yes, 
I've had enough. I've had enough ; and, rather than be 
your son-in-law, I'd choose to be condemned to the 
hand-organ for life. 

Mart. Fire and fury ! He refuses my daughter. 
(Springing at Tib urge.) 

All (holding him). Monsieur Marteau! 
C^es. Uncle ! 

* Bergerin and Notary, at back; C:esar, Tiburce, Marteau, Louis, Tuffier 



92 A XERVOUS SET. 

Mart. Let me assassinate him ! 

Tib. {grinding his teeth, and yelling). Don't come 
near me ! (JYbise, general row.) 

Enter Maeion, Lucie, Placide, very much scared. 

Luc. and Mae. What a noise ! 

Plac. What's going on ? 
. Maet. (bellowing). Oh ! 

Luc. (runs to Maet.) Papa ! 

Mae. (^runs to Maet.) What is it ? 

Maet. (pointing at Tib.) It's he: it's that black- 
guard, that refuses to marry you. 

Mae. (joyfully). He refuses then, — he? 

Maet. Yes, he ! 

Enter Madame Tuffiee. 

Mad. Tuf. Louis refuses ? That's false. 

Maet* What? 

Tuf. (to his wife). Mind your own business ! 

Mad. Tuf. My son has told me all. He has been 
sacrificed ; but he never refused to marry. 

Maet. Who's talking about him ? 

Mad. Tuf. Who is it you are at then ? 

Maet. At him, — him. (Points at Tibuece.) 

Mad. Tuf. Oh! go ahead then. (Grosses to e. of 
Maeteau.) 

Maet. (whose rage has turned to tears, taking Mae. 
in his arms). Ah! my poor darling! 

Mad. Tuf. (running on). And so says I to myself, 
my son has faults, like other people ; but he's incapable 
of treachery. 

* Tiburce, Caesar, Marion, Madame Turner, Marteau, Turner, Lucie, Notary, 
Bergerin. 



A NERVOUS SET. 93 

Mart. Great Jove ! will you allow me to finish my 
sentence ? 

Mad. Tuf. What ! deny a mother the right to defend 
her offspring ! ( Takes Louis in her arms.) 

Mart. Tuffier, tie up your wife. 

Mad. Tuf. Lny hands upon me ! 

Lou. Mamma ! 

Mad. Tuf. {holding on to the Not.) Let them come : 
I am under the aegis of the law. 

Not. {trying to get away). Madame, you squeeze me 
too tight. (Madame Tuffier begins to converse with 
him aside with great animation.) 

Mart, {who hardly knows where he is). What was 
it I was just going to do ? 

Luc. {pointing at Mar.) Papa, you were just 
going to embrace her. 

Mart, {affected). Ah! so I was. Come, my child, — 
come to my arms. (CLesar slips under Marteau's arm, 
and is kissed in the place of Marion.) Who am I kiss- 
ing here ? 

CLes. O uncle ! that kiss did me so much good ! — 
don't take it away from me. 

Mart, {sentimentally). The poor boy is in the right 
after all. But for him, Marion would have been at this 
moment the wife of this booby. 

CLes. Whereas now she can be the wife of the little 
Louis, whom she loves as I love Lucie. 

Mart. Right, that's true : so she can. ( To Tiburce.) 
That shall be your punishment, you little wretch! {To 
Louis.) Marion is yours.* 

Lou. Oh, rapture ! 



* Tiburce, Marion, Louis, Tuffier, Placide, Bergerin, Lucie, Caesar, Notary 
(on causeuse), and Madame Tuffier (opposite). 



94 A NERVOUS SET. 

Mart. Placide, bring the money-box. 

All Ah! 

Tuf. {aside). Yes, now we shall see. 

Mart, {to Lou.) Yes, I give you Marion. (Placide 
puts box on table.) I give her to you with the whole con- 
tents of the money-box, — yes, all. ( Opens box.) 

Berg, {looks in). Nothing! 

Tuf. Nothing ? 

Luc, CLes., Plac, Mar. Nothing whatever. 

Tib. {aside, rubs his hands). Nothing whatever. Well, 
I am in luck. 

Mart, {to Tuf. and Berg.) Oh, this is disgusting ! 

Tuf. Well, after all — 

Berg. You didn't put any thing in either. 

Mart. I, — I was bringing up Marion. 

Tuf. I was bringing up my son. 

Berg. And I — > 

CLes. You were bringing up rabbits. 

Tib. (laughing, aside). Well, I'm glad now I didn't 
go. 

Mart, {looking at Tib., icho laughs) . He laughs. The 
villain triumphs. 

Mad. Tuf. {to the Not.) What stuff is that you tell 
me ? — that the wife must follow everywhere? 

Not. {who feels ill). I assure you, madame, I am in 
want of air. 

(Madame Tuffier continues to hold him back.) 

Mad. Tuf. You are an idiot. 

Tuf. {to CLes. and Lou., who are talking to him). 
Without dowry — oh, get out ! Forty thousand francs, 
or no marriage. 



A NERVOUS SET. 95 

Mart.* I've got my revenge now. (Gesticulates 
under Tiburce's nose.) I'll give the forty thousand 
francs. 

Tib. {ceases laughing*). Ah, bah! 

C-ajs. O uncle ! 

Mar. My good papa ! 

Mart, (nervously). Yes, I'll give them. (Takes notes 
from pocket-book, and brandishes them under Tiburce's 
nose.) I dower Marion, and I dower her alone (meas- 
uring Tuffier and Bergerin) ; and I forbid any one 
else to put a red cent in the box (angrily), — I forbid 
them. 

Berg. You forbid them ? — you forbid them ? 

Mart. Yes, I forbid them. 

Berg. If we desired to — 

Mart. I defy you. 

Berg. You defy us ? 

Mart. Yes. 

Berg, (takes out pocket-book). You defy me, do you ? 
(Pitts it up again.) Well, you are perfectly right. 

Mart, (turns towards Tib.) Well, miscreant, you re- 
fused my daughter, did you? You prefer the hand-organ, 
eh? Well, Marion has found a husband and forty thou- 
sand francs of dowry. 

Tib. (aside). Forty thousand francs ! The devil! Now 
I'm sorry I staid. 

Mart. Now for the notary : quick. 

CLes. Quick, now for the notary. 

Not. (in centre, bewildered^). This riot, screaming, and 
tumult ! — ah, ah, ah ! I don't know what's got me. 

* Tiburce, Lucie, and Marion (farther up), Placide (at back), Caesar, Louis (at 
back), Marteau, Bergerin, Tuffier, Notary (at window), Madame Tuffier (on 
causeuse). 



96 A NERVOUS SET. 

C^es. (looks at Not., who is convulsed). "Well, what 
has got him ? 

Not. I think I'm going to have a nervous crisis. 

CLes. He too? Down to the notary. (All crowd 
round him.) 

Marion, Louis, Marteau, Tiburce (behind, on chair), Placide, Notary, Tuffier 
Lucie, Bergerin, Madame Turner (on sofa), Caesar. 

CURTAIN. 



A NERVOUS SET, 



<&a\mty m Cljm %tte. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF BARRIERE AND SARDOU, 



By S. M. QUINCY, 



Jor tfje Boston Amateur Bramattc Club. 



' BOSTON : 
PRINTED BY RAND, AVERY, & FRYE, 

No. 3, CORNHILL. 
l870. 



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